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CONTENTS FOR JANUARY, 1893. 

Transition in the Industrial Status of Woman . . Katharine Coman 171 

The Novel of the Future Alice W. Kellogg 178 

A Night in the Cathedral Mary E. Dillingham 182 

At Sunset Edith E. Tuxbury 184 

Themes 184 

Norse Fiction Martha G. McCaulley 188 

The Dark Florence Converse. 193 

Sketches Involving Prorlems. — A Settlement 

Study Caroline L. Williamson 193 

Editorial 199 

Free Press 204 

Book Reviews 209 

Exchanges 212 

College Notes 217 

Society Notes 217 

College Bulletin 218 

Alumnae Notes 219 

Mabkiagks, Bibths, Deaths 220 



Entered in the Post-oiiice at Wellesley, Mass., as second-class matter. 



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To the Alumnas of Wellesley College: — 



When, a year ago, it was decided to give up the Wellesley Prelude and 
substitute for it the Wellesley Magazine, the management realized that 
the expenses of the new venture could not be met without the hearty support 
of the alumna?. This support has been for the most part generously given, 
but feeling that the Magazine cannot be considered a complete success 
until it is in the hands of every alumna?, the editors for '93-'94 have decided 
to send out this brief statement of their plans and purposes for the coming 
year: 

First. It is expected that the Magazine will serve as a bond of union 
between the College and those who have gone out from its walls. The Col- 
lege Notes are intended to give in outline the leading events of the Welles- 
ley life, while the Society news and programs will enable graduate members 
to keep in touch with the work of their own Society. 

Second. It is hoped that the Magazine will be the means of keeping 
up a closer connection among the alumnae themselves. It is intended during 
the coming year to make the Alumna? Notes an especially prominent feature, 
giving the fullest details obtainable concerning the whereabouts, occupation 
and well-being of the alumnae and former students. To accomplish this 
purpose every alumnae, whether a subscriber or not, is earnestly requested to 
send to the editor of the Magazine any such news which she may possess. 

Third. It is hoped that the Magazine may represent the literary life of 
Wellesley, giving the best thought and most earnest work of the students 
and alumnae, and thus furnishing a standard by which the outside world may 
judge both the work done at our Alma Mater and its effects. 

That these purposes may be fully carried out, the editors most earnestly 
request the support and co-operation of the alumnas. The college constitu- 
ency is not large enough to entirely sustain the Magazine. To fully suc- 
ceed it must have the assistance of the graduates, and for this assistance the 
editors now ask, relying confidently on that spirit of loyalty to Wellesley and 
Wellesley institutions among the alumnae, which has led them to accomplish 
so much already for the welfare and reputation of the College Beautiful. 

Wellesley, Sept. 



.l«i) 



Rncloscd please fnd two dollars, my subscription to the Welles- 
ley Magazine for the year 1893-94. 

Address, 



Vol. I. WELLESLEY, JANUARY 14, 1893. No. 4. 

EDITOR-IN-CHIEF, 
FLORENCE CONVERSE. 

ASSOCIATE EDITOR, MANAGING EDITORS, 

ANNIE B. TOMLINSON. HELEN G. EAGER, 

MARION N. WILCOX. 

LITERARY EDITORS. 

ELINOR F. RUDDLE, CARRIE F. MANN, 

JOSEPHINE P. SIMRALL, HELEN M. BENNETT, 

FRANCES H. LUCAS, CAROL M. DRESSER. 

The Wellesley Magazine is published monthly, from October to June, by a board of editors chosen 
from the senior class. 

Terms, $2.00 per year; single copies 25 cents. 

All aivmnce news should be sent, until further notice, to Miss Carol M. Dresser, 93 Tyler street, Boston. 

Advertising business is conducted by Miss Helen G. Eager, Wellesley College, Wellesley, Mass. 

Subscriptions to the Magazine and other business communications, in all cases, should be sent to Miss 
Marion N. Wilcox, Wellesley College, AVellesley, Mass. 

All items of college interest, and communications to be inserted in the department of Free Press, will be 
received by Miss Annie B. Tomlinson, Wellesley College, Wellesley, Mass. 

All literary contributions may be sent to Miss Florence Converse, Wellesley College, AVellesley, Mass. 

TRANSITION IN THE INDUSTRIAL STATUS OF WOMAN. 

ONE hundred years ago America was still in what is known to industrial 
history as the "domestic epoch/' England's industries had entered 
fully upon the factory stage; but machinery and the secrets of the trade 
were jealously guarded as the peculiar perquisites of the British capitalist. 
Not until 1820 did we overtake the mother country in the realm of inven- 
tion. 

Under the domestic system of industry, the house is the work-shop. 
Wife and daughters and younger sons are the operatives, while the capitalist, 
the employer of labor, is the head of the house. This family group pro- 
duces for its own consumption. There may be some neighborhood exchange 
of goods, but there is little surplus product for sale. While the domestic 
system prevailed, there was slight differentiation of employments or division 
of labor. The family was an industrial community, and the farmhouse a 
centre of numerous trades. Every farmer expected to live of his own, and 



172 THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 

was as self-sustaining as a feudal baron. Farm and garden yielded food- 
stuffs, the wood-lot furnished fuel and timber, even the family clothing was 
in good part clipped from the backs of home-bred sheep. Saw-mill, grist- 
mill, sugar-camp, slaughter-house and tannery were not unusual appurte- 
nances of the well-equipped farm. Seldom had the farmer recourse to the 
world's market. The needs of his household were few and simple, and were 
met by home production. Mother and daughters contributed their full share 
toward supplying the family wants. The baking, the brewing, the butter- 
making, the care of garden, of cows and of poultry were relegated to them. 
It was their duty and pride to "put up" the summer fruits, and they con- 
cocted jams and jellies and marmalades whose very memory is an appetizer. 
When in the autumn the products of the summer's labor were being har- 
vested and stored for winter use, the women's hands were busy. There 
were apples and peaches to be gathered and dried, or made up into delicious 
fruit butters. There were pumpkins to be brought in from the corn-field 
and stored against Thanksgiving Day. The fall slaughtering required the 
active assistance of the women of the house. Meat must be smoked, or 
salted down in pickle, fat must be tried into lard and the refuse made into 
soap. Great brass kettles hung for weeks on the crane over the open-air 
fire, and to the farm-bred child form as inseparable a part of the autumn 
memory-picture as the cider-mill or the fruit-laden chestnut-tree. Wlien 
the work of the autumn was accomplished and the cellar well stocked with 
food, the winter tasks began. Spinning, weaving, knitting and sewing kept 
the women's fingers busy through the short days and long evenings. Like 
the virtuous women of old, they sought wool and flax and wrought willingly 
with their hands. Bed-linen, blankets, guy patch-work quilts, rugs and car- 
pets, garments for men as well as for women and children, for outer as well 
as for underwear — all these things, which we to-day buy at the dry-goods 
store, our grandmothers expected to make as part of their contribution to 
the family comfort and welfare. The wide, roomy kitchen was a workshop 
whose many industries absorbed the time and talent of the mother and 
daughters of the house and often required the services of the daughters of 
poorer neighbors. Here was an unfailing field of usefulness for the maiden 
aunts and spinster cousins whose skilful aid more than compensated for 
their " keep." 



THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 173 

The industrial events of the past hundred years have wrought a complete 
transformation here. The numerous industries of the farmhouse have been 
assumed by as many trades and translated to the city, to the factory, to the 
sweater's shop. In 1790 Samuel Slater, having imported adequate knowl- 
edge of English methods and inventions in a very capacious brain, put up 
the first spinning-mill in America at Pawtucket, Rhode Island. It proved 
an immediate success. The housewife's wheel was easily distanced and 
domestic spinning became a lost art. For twenty-five years longer cloth 
was woven on hand-looms, the warp being provided by the mill. In 1814 
Francis C. Lowell constructed a power-loom and built a complete factory at 
Waltham, Mass. Weaving as a domestic craft was doomed from that 
moment. Factoiy cloth was cheaper than the home-made goods. The spin- 
ning-wheel and hand-loom disappeared from the farmhouse except in inac- 
cessible districts where cost of transportation neutralized the advantage of 
the factory product. 

As for the farmer's daughters, they followed the spinning-wheel to the 
factory. Until 1850 they made up the majority of the employees in the 
mills. Thus the work taken out of the home was performed by the same 
hands under new conditions. 

It would seem that the province of the needle would not be so easily in- 
vaded, and j-et this peculiarly domestic industry has been to a great extent 
transferred to the factory. Until 1825 all but the most elegant clothing 
was made up at home — the lighter garments by the women of the family, the 
heavier and more elaborate by the itinerant tailor who came, spring and fall, 
with shears, press-board and irons, and was lodged and fed until the season's 
outfit was complete. In the second quarter of the century, tailors' shops 
came into vogue, and soon ready-made clothing for men and boys was put 
upon the market. The invention of the sewing-machine in 1850 revolu- 
tionized the methods of the trade. Something analogous to factorv condi- 
tions was introduced. Great shops were established, employing many 
machines and hundreds of men, women and children. Tailoring has some 
time since passed from the home to the contractor's shop, and it is safe to pre- 
dict that dressmaking will soon follow. By a similar process knitting has been 
taken out of the hands of the housewife, together with tatting, hemstitch- 
ing and embroidery. One by one the household crafts have become trades, 



174 THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 

and the articles that were once made in a hundred thousand homes are now 
manufactured in a few great factories. We have surrendered the preserv- 
ing of fruit and the curing of meat to the canning establishment and the 
abattoir. The creamery makes better butter than the farmer's wife. The 
laundry and the bakery are bidding for two onerous tasks that can well be 
done out of the house, while the advocates of co-operative housekeeping 
would have us make over even the preparation of the daily meals to a public 
kitchen. 

And jet the women of the present day are busy — too often overworked. 
What labors have they substituted for the household employments of the 
last century ? The answer is not far to seek. Women of leisure devote the 
time that their grandmothers spent at the spinning-wheel or over the needle 
to enjoyment of the larger intellectual and social life of to-day. Their con- 
tribution to the national well-being is less tangible, but need be no less real 
and beneficent. As for the women who are obliged to aid in the support of 
the family, they have, for the greater part, sought work in the factories. It 
is their best means of assisting father or husband or brother to keep the 
house and provide for its dependent members. 

Opportunities for wage-earning employment have multiplied with each sue 
ceeding decade of the nineteenth century. An historical review of wages and 
prices published by the Massachusetts Labor Bureau in 1885 affords some 
interesting suggestions as to the widening of woman's industrial sphere. 
The first record of woman's wages appears in 1815, "Domestic servants, 
fifty cents a week with board." In 1825, three new employments appear, 
nursing, fitting hand-made shoes and sorting in the paper-mills, in 1837, 
we find women employed in the bookbinderies as folders and sewers. Har- 
riet Martineau's "Society in America" appeared in 1837; she protests 
bitterly against the subjection of women as a consequence of their industrial 
dependence. She found but seven employments open to women — teach- 
ing, needle-work, household service, keeping boarders, and employment in 
printing-offices, in book-binderies and in the cotton-mills. The factories of 
Lowell and Lawrence were by this time fully established and were paying 
expert spinners $1.36 a day. Hundreds of young women came from the 
farms to the factory towns to earn the price of a winter's schooling or a 
wedding outfit. Lucy Larcom and Harriet Robinson, themselves factory 



.THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 175 

girls, have given us cheery pictures of the self-reliant, self-respecting work- 
ing women of that day. The factory girls established literary clubs and 
circulating libraries and published a monthly magazine, "The Lowell Offer- 
ing." They led happy, wholesome lives, put b} r money, and felt themselves 
in no way degraded by their work. Many of them married into the families 
of their employers. 

The industrial opportunities of women have multiplied with the extension 
of the factory s} r stem ; but woman's labor was not recognized as an indus- 
trial factor demanding the attention of the economist and statistician until 
after the war. The United States census of 1850 reports only the "pro- 
fessions, occupations and trades of the male population." That of 1860 re- 
ports occupations without distinction of sex. The census of 1870 reports 
338 occupations open to women and 1,836,288 women employees. Of these, 
nearly one-half were engaged in domestic service. 1,836,288 is about 13 per 
cent, of the total female population over ten years of age. According to the 
census of 1880 there were in that year 2,647,157 working women in the 
United States. This is about 15 per cent, of the total female population of 
working age. Only one-third were engaged in domestic service. The 
figures for 1890 are not yet published, but there is little reason to doubt that 
they will give evidence that a still larger percentage of American women 
are working for wages and that a smaller fraction of these are household 
servants. 

Are we to congratulate ourselves upon this industrial achievement of the 
nineteenth century? The housewife has been relieved of much exhausting 
drudgery. The price of almost every article of domestic use has fallen. 
This reduction in prices, coupled with the concurrent rise in wages has 
doubled the purchasing power of labor. The standard of living, that most 
important factor in social progress, has steadily risen. Moreover, the new 
industrial order affords opportunity for profitable employment to the so- 
called "superfluous women." Their services are no longer required in the 
household, but they have found a means of self-support in the many voca- 
tions now open to them. In a recent number of the Forum Commissioner 
Carroll D. Wright states his conviction that the growing industrial inde- 
pendence of woman is slowly but surely working out her social and political 
equality. This is the brighter side of the picture, but there is much to de- 



176 THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 

plore in the new conditions of woman's labor. The personal element that 
ennobled and dignified her former task is eliminated. The work under her 
fingers is not her own. It is not fashioned for husband or child. It con- 
tributes only indirectly in the form of wages to the comfort of her home. 
Moreover, the new conditions are far less human than the old. The crowded 
factory with its foul air, its deafening machinery, its ceaseless tax on mus- 
cles and nerves, stands in marked contrast to the old-time living-room where 
mother and daughters gathered about the family tasks. There is no room 
for the exercise of ingenuity and mother-wit in an occupation where the 
worker is merely assistant to a machine ; the monotonous employment of 
the same muscles, often in an unnatural posture, is a serious menace to 
health; the instinct of womanly reserve is imperilled in the miscellaneous 
companionship of the shop. American women employed in the tailoring 
trade protest not so much against low wages and unwholesome work-rooms 
as against the foul and profane talk of the brutal foreigner who supervises 
the work or stitches at the same table. 

Reviewing the good and evil results of this industrial revolution, we must 
conclude that they are unequally distributed. The housewives of the coun- 
try have been emancipated from the heavier domestic tasks, but these same 
tasks are being performed under less wholesome conditions by three million 
women and girls. Women who have no responsibility for the bread and 
butter problem are set free from many of the household cares that engrossed 
the' lives of our grandmothers. On the other hand, the women who must 
support themselves and their families have become the bond slaves of the 
factory or the sweater's shop. 

The new conditions must be accepted as inevitable. The transition from 
the domestic to the factory s} - stem is not to be resisted. It is a phase of 
industrial evolution. Our part is to learn how to adjust ourselves to the 
situation, to minimize the evil results and to reap the full benefit of the 
good. 

How shall we free ourselves from domestic fret and enjoy to the full the 
larger life to which we are called in this last decade of the nineteenth cen- 
tury? How shall we procure for the factory operatives something of the 
sweet and wholesome conditions that belonged to the household task ? 

The domestic service problem seems of chief importance to many women, 



THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 177 

but what is the perplexity of the harassed mistress compared to that of the 
house-mother who spends her days in the factory ? She leaves her home 
between six and seven in the morning, not to return to it until six at night. 
Breakfast is to be made ready, children dressed for the day, and luncheon 
provided before setting off to work. On her return the weary woman must 
prepare supper, get the children to bed, wash, and iron and mend. The 
family life is sordid and miserable. Baby is put out to nurse, the older 
children run in the street, husband and sons find home forlorn and spend 
their evenings in the saloon. Small wonder that the, mother loses heart and 
hope, and gives over the attempt to "keep things tidy." Small wonder that 
the children born to such mothers are puny and underfed and die in infancy 
or enter upon life handicapped by weakness and disease. 

Statistics show that this is no imaginary evil. The proportion of married 
women among the factory girls in New England is nearly twenty per cent. 
The infant mortality of factory towns in Massachusetts is three times as 
high as that of agricultural towns in the same state. If we add to the num- 
ber of married women in factories the thousands of washwomen, and char- 
women, saleswomen and dressmakers whose working hours are given at the 
expense of home comfort, we have such a sum of human misery as leads us 
to question the advantage of the industrial emancipation of women. 

For the single woman who must earn her own living, the large industrial 
opportunities of to-day are an unmixed good, but to the married woman 
whose "men-folks" are thriftless or incompetent they are a real source of 
danger. They make it too easy for a man to fall back upon his wife when 
temporarily thrown out of work. If the occasional necessity becomes a 
habit, the home life is poisoned at its source. We may do something to 
mitigate this evil. Babies may be tended in day-nurseries and kindergar- 
tens, the out-of-school hours of the older children may be provided for in 
play-grounds and children's clubs. The mothers' club may do something to 
make up for neglected girlhood. Legislation may abridge working hours 
and improve the conditions of labor. But when all is done, we have not 
met the fundamental lack. We have not restored the home. We cannot 
do this till we have restored the mother to the home. Here is a problem 
that is not to be solved in a day. It is the saddest, darkest charge against 
the present industrial system. 

Katharine Coman. 



178 THE 'WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 

THE NOVEL OF THE FUTURE. 

WE have been taught that fools rush in where angels fear to tread, and 
} 7 et we tiptoe up to that strange window which we call the future, 
boldly pull aside the mystic curtain, and peer long and earnestly, with poor 
dim ej-es, into the clouds and darkness, to see what trace may there exist of 
the novel that is to be. 

The epic may have the birthright of the eldest born, the drama may point 
proudly back to a royal ancestry, but the novel too has a pedigree right 
honorable, and an antiquity of which it need not be ashamed. 

Away back in the fourth century A. D., Heliodorus penned his Greek 
romances, and in those weak and flabb} r things there lay imprisoned germs 
which sprang to life at the warm touch of the Renaissance, and stood forth 
in the shape of Boccaccio's polished tales; tales so new to the astonished 
world that they received the name of novels. So sturdy was this new form 
of literary life that it survived its hot-house nurture in the realms of fab- 
ulous adventure and sickly sentimentalism, and emerged a real friend in 
need to the satire of "Don Quixote," and "Gil Bias." Then it bided its 
time while the great drama ran a brilliant course, receiving at the end this 
drama's ebbing life-blood in veins which throbbed and tingled with the rich 
new gift. Fielding, Smollett — through them, indeed, the novel gained fire, 
reality, and quick onward movement — in brief, dramatic power, its life- 
element forever after. And yet with all its strength of limb and brain the 
novel was at best a crude, ungainly thing. Then stood forth the mighty 
Wizard of the North, touched it with his magic wand, and, presto, change ! 
Behold agility and grace, a beauty of the present with a lustre of past 
radiance, and now at last we have the novel on the very threshold of real 
life. 

Setting metaphors aside, let us make an earnest effort to discover some- 
thing of the work accomplished in this century, and the tendencies which 
still survive, believing that in this way only can its future possibilities be 
determined. 

The rapid onrush of the fiction which our nineteenth century has pro- 
duced, though so apparently chaotic, lias been quite steadily confined to 
certain lines, several of which have already reached a terminus, while for 
the others there remains a future to be more or less prolonged. 



THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 179 

For clearness' sake we will divide our brief survey into the Nature and 
the Purpose of the Future Novel. 

According to the first classification, the vast majority of novels find a com- 
fortable resting-place in one of five divisions: — The Romantic Novel, The 
Novel of Manners, The Supernatural Novel, The Psychological Novel, and 
The Novel Realistic. 

The Romantic Novel — delight of certain imaginative and susceptible 
young people — died with Kingsley, and was buried with Bulwer. Life had 
grown too intensely practical for the existence of Romance for Romance's 
sake. 

The Novel of Manners had indeed illustrious supporters in Jane Austen, 
Thackeray, and Trollope, while upon George Meredith to-day the largest 
portion of their mantle has descended. Though we have "society novels" 
in cheap abundance, we still feel the critic's statement true, " That the gener- 
alizing eye, the penetrative humor, and the genial breadth of sympathy 
which is needed to portra3 r the social pageant as a whole, appear to be gifts 
which are becoming rarer and rarer among us every da}'." It may be because 
these qualities are no longer present in a combination, or that their thrice 
blessed owners have betaken themselves to other portions of the fiebd of 
labor. 

The Supernatural Novel, which by introducing the mysterious appeals to 
the imagination, and thereby enthralls the reader, points proudly back to 
Scott and Charlotte Bronte, but its glory belongs only with the past, and 
the Psychological Novel has slipped into the vacant place. 

This style of fiction appeals to the understanding, and its ambition is to 
perplex and enforce rather than to enthrall. What the critic said of George 
Eliot is in a measure true of all the novelist psychologists : " She creates 
character, she devises incident and situation, chiefly that she may have 
occasion for indulging that almost superhuman faculty which is hers, of 
laying bare to its ultimate microscopic secret, the anatomy of the living 
human consciousness in play." Hawthorne, too, was intensely psychological' 
Who can ever forget his vivid studies of heredity, the depths of anguish 
from some hidden guilt, or the soul development of such as Donatello? In 
Stevenson's weird story of "Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde," in the wild, passion- 
ate Lyndall in Olive Schreiner's "African Farm," are manifested yet other 



180 THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 

phases of this same tendency, and as we have no reason to believe the 
mines have been exhausted, we may safely leave their further exploration 
to the Novel of the Future. 

Of all the varied styles of novel at the present day, the Realistic is the 
most in vogue. But there is Realism and Realism, and a chasm between. 
There is realism, that, in angry reaction from unreal, romantic fiction, prom- 
ised to devote itself to writing rigidly just what it saw, and men "felt thank- 
ful to the novelist who had the courage to approach some of the great 
problems of existence, and to show human creatures as we know them 
around us, tried by the old passions, and quivering with the old pains." 
The world was glad indeed to welcome Balzac, Hugo, Dauilet, Tolstoi, 
Tourgueneff, Ibsen — men not blind to her perplexities and open social 
sores. But how grievously her confidence was abused. It is not Realism 
to utterly ignore the noblest elements of humanity. It is not truth, it is 
not art, when life is shown all poor, all commonplace ; when human exist- 
ence is nothing but " a momentous sense of bafflement and pain " ; when 
men and women are entirely of the earth earthy ; when all ideals, nay, pos- 
sibility of ideals have vanished in thin smoke ; when, as in Tourgueneff's 
pictures, "the truth seems to deny beauty, and incites to despair." This 
is not art, it is not truth, and those who study indications say that when 
Zola and the members of his school resign their places, there will be no 
great minds as theirs to continue on such narrow lines. 

And then there is a Realism that keeps its word, that, as Mr. Hardy 
phrases it, " portrays what is in terms of what should be instead of what 
cannot and should not be." This ideal realism, by no means as j'et a much 
tilled soil, offers measureless opportunities to the Novel of the Future. 
Howell and James, the representatives of realism in American fiction, are 
really working toward this point, it would seem, but faintl}' do they shadow 
forth the glorious possibilities, when an English critic declares, and in so 
declaring voices quite a common sentiment, that he "would in either equi- 
nox, cross the Atlantic, to escape from some of their American heroines." 

"Purpose "is a broad word, and to define the purpose of the Future 
Novel, we shall content ourselves with three broad classes, of that delight- 
fully inclusive sort, which so facilitate amateur scientific investigation. 

First, there is the Didactic Novel. Including many an anomaly judi- 



THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 181 

ciouslj r diluted for the juvenile comprehension, it carries the idea of sugar- 
coated pills into higher planes of intelligence, and transmits a varied 
assortment of knowledge botanical, zoological, geological, archaeological, 
sociological, economical, political and religious, under thin disguise of the 
adventures of a pair of lovers, their enemies and friends. As might perhaps 
be imagined, this class of fiction, with a few exceptions where the lovers 
prove superior to their scientific environment, does not increase in popu- 
larity, and the didactic method is not pursued by the most artistic authors 
of to-day. 

Second, there is the Novel of the Social Problem. When one considers 
the mighty wrongs of suffering humanity on the one hand, and on the other 
the " tremendous engine of influence " afforded by the popular novel, one 
reverences the wisdom of those who created " Uncle Tom's Cabin," 
"Romona," "Looking Backward," and "All Sorts and Conditions of Men." 
True it is, that the magazine essay and newspaper paragraph offer ample 
opportunity for eager advocates of most new theories, and likewise we 
frankly admit that many of our sorely needed reforms, such as Biennial 
Legislature, The Fee and Salary System, Codification, Copyright, Civil Ser- 
vice Reform, Woman's Suffrage, and Restricted Immigration, would be 
troublesome to use in fiction. Nevertheless, so long as a great wrong exists 
to claim redress, so long as men's interest must be awakened, attention 
concentrated, and reflection forced, so long shall we receive The Novel of 
Reform, and even a rabid optimist must admit that at present showing The 
Novel of the Future has quite a chance along this line. 

That the great majority of novels are written for the simple purpose of 
supplying the human craving for recreation and amusement is most true, 
essential and desirable. Men "thirst for a life scene and story not worn 
threadbare like their own." It is not strange, then, that four-fifths of the 
books taken from the shelves of public libraries, and nine-tenths of all books 
sold are fiction. " Thanks to the book," wrote Charles Dudley Warner, in 
a discussion of fiction, " which amuses, consoles, or inspires; which furnishes 
substance for thought and for conversation ; which dispels the care and 
lightens the burdens of life; which is a friend when other friends fail, a com- 
panion when other intercourse wearies or is impossible, for a year, for a 
decade, for a generation, perhaps." Right glad we are that there is no pos- 



182 THE "WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 

sibility for decline along this line, for true it is that we cannot "follow the 
story of a great domineering passion, of an involved, hard beset life, of the 
growth of some fine moral trait," without being broader, stronger and better 
for the journey. 

There are some intense pessimists who claim with a persistence that is 
really amusing, that the stock of all possible incidents and characters is well 
nigh exhausted, and that the Novel of the Future will perish by starvation. 
We would reply to all such croakers, that the coming novel will be, as the 
novel has always been, a representative of its age, which we should be 
grieved to consider a pale copy of the past; and that the endlessly varied 
beauty of human character is a field that has been as yet but superficially 
plowed, for " How few among cotemporary English and American novelists 
deign to charm us by a picture of a man or woman toward whom our hearts 
go out in a glow of admiring love?" "The momentous spiritual impulse" 
received from Maggie Tulliver, the solid comfort taken in John Ridd and 
Lorna Doone, the quiet confidence reposed in Draxjr Miller and Armorel of 
Lyonesse, make us long for friendships to be made in the world of future 
fiction, " as real and true as many a visible connection in the world of fact." 

These, then, we see in shadowy outline, the several lines along which the 
future novel promises development. Little, indeed, there lies in range of 
dim eyesight. Yet of one object we are certain — The Great American 
Novel, no longer a will-o'-the-wisp of literaiy endeavor. What Bret Harte 
did for California, Cable in Louisiana, Miss Murfree in Tennessee, Miss 
Wilkins in New England, Mark Twain on the Mississippi, and Mr. Howells 
for that "more Highly civilized American at large," all this is united by 
one master effort, the ambition of American fiction is attained, and the 
Novel of the Future will not have lived in vain. 

Alice W. Kellogg. 



A NIGHT IN THE CATHEDRAL. 



THE sweet-voiced choristers of heaven had long since sung the vespers ; 
the nightingale and whip-poor-will had sadljr made their confessions; 
and the humble willows had crossed themselves with holy water until they 
had fallen asleep. The crescent censer was swinging low ; all voices were 



THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 183 

hushed ; roses and lilies exhaled a fragrance like unto the pi\Tyers of saints ; 
overhead, in solemn beauty, gleamed countless starry tapers; before the 
altar of the great cathedral silence knelt alone. 

Down a winding stair, at the end of a narrow corridor, was an isolated 
cell. A single flickering candle lighted the rude apartment and disclosed 
its meagre furnishings. On one side of the room was a pallet of 
straw. On a hearth of brick glowed the embers of a once bright 
fire. On the bare table stood an hour-glass, a crucifix and a well- 
burnt candle. The walls of the room were lined with shelves filled 
with parchments, many of them stained with age and all of them se- 
curely sealed. Beside the table sat the sole occupant of this curious 
chamber — an old, old man. He wore a cloak of sombre gray ; over 
his stooping shoulders fell long white locks; his snowy beard reached to his 
knees. With one trembling hand he supported his head, and in the other 
hand he held an open roll of parchment. He sat gazing fixedly at the 
roll, and as he gazed, he muttered, "Late, late, so late, but I have 
tried ever to do faithfully the work committed to me, and here is a 
strict account. Mine not to command but only to record. Entering 
my labors with smiles, hoping to write naught but pleasant tales of 
happiness and prosperity, the spread of truth and the growth of the 
kingdom of righteousness, I have met Avith many disappointments. "Men 
have drunk the very dregs of wickedness. Poverty has feasted on the 
souls of women. Princes have stooped their crowned heads to grovel 
in the dust of degradation. Here are wars and rumors of wars. Dis- 
ease and famine have devastated the land. Death, ha ! Death has gath- 
ered the fair, the good, and the great with ruthless hand, — but the end is 
not }'et. 

"These are permitted to be reviewed; but here and here are portions 
sealed, — individual accounts with human hearts. Here are written the 
joys, sorrows, triumphs, defeats, victories of every one, not to be revealed 
until the judgment of God. " Yet not all is discouraging. Nay, there have 
been deeds worthy, pure and true, and generous hearts still live. And," he 
g;isped, "it may be, who can tell, that by and by some shall look back and 
bless this year for bringing into existence strong and heroic lives. Ah 
me," he reeled, "God grant it is not all — in vain — that — I — have — " 



184 THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 

The hour-glass was run out; the embers were ashes; the candle was extin- 
guished ; the Old Year was dead. Night put on her sablest robes, with a 
sweep of her trailing garments extinguishing the lights of heaven. The 
sobbing winds sang dirges; the tall trees sighed and moaned; "and the 
hooded clouds like friars told their beads in drops of rain." 

" The King is dead : long live the King." So it is ever. While all was 
mourning, darkness and grief, a new soul came into being; a new taper was 
lighted. But the flame of the candle was faint, and for a time made no 
apparent difference in the awful gloom of the universe, and the infant was 
asleep. At last Dawn,.in her rosy beaut)', came and softly touched the baby's 
hand. Sweet was the awakening. The child rose with a smile of glory, 
and while the feathered choir burst forth in joyous matins, received its bap- 
tism in the dew of morn, and kneeling awaited the blessed kiss of the sun. 
God bless thee, fair New Year ; may it be thy happ}^ task to record triumph 
of light and truth over the powers of darkness and sin. 

Mary E. Dillingham. 



at SUNSET. 

The sun sinks down behind the firs, 

The soft clouds hang beneath the sky, 
All gray and pink, like fairest pearls, 

That in far beds of Orient lie. 
The distant hill-top glows with gold, 

Within the valley shadows stray, 
A sky all pink; a story told; 

A blush where late a warm kiss lay. 



Edith E. Tuxbuby. 



THEMES. 

" The one red leaf, the last of its clan, 
That dances as often as dance it can, 
Hanging so light, and hanging so high." 

One Sundaj'- afternoon I spied it, on a clothes-line, at the back of a tene- 
ment-house, " dancing and fluttering in the breeze " of a cold November day. 

It stood out from those common bricks almost like a bit of fine porcelain 
— this little, red gingham slip of some innocent child. 



THE "WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 185 

It hung high, not so high but that you might see the patches, the rents, 
and the bit of torn lace about the neck. 

Little Slip, I am glad I saw you ! 

" She." 

Her head, shoulders, and hips made a right angle with her legs when she 
stood as erect as she could. Her neck and head made a right angle with 
her back, when she tried to look a body in the face. 

Her mouth was a mere slit, and at long range made two right angles with 
a high, narrow nose. 

A grin showed teeth that for evenness and color looked like an asparagus 
bed. 

Over the eyes, wilted malaga grapes, set in skin, — dried orange peel ; the 
hair fell like Florida moss. 

" On the Heights." 

We were monarchs of the peak that wild and stormy night. The tree- 
bending winds howled and moaned in the mountain-firs. 

Great, undulating billows of mist rolled heavily along the valley below, 
driven fast and far by the whirlwinds. 

In their troughs we saw the lights of the little village deep down, like re- 
flections of stars in surging waters, now seen, now lost. 

The moon, in a haze-nimbus like a great dove's eye, poured her gray fire 
upon peak and valley of mist. 

My Hillside and My Tree. 
It is a hillside covered with long, living, gveen grass, that waves, and 
sways softly and gently beneath the tender breeze ; it is a hillside the yellow 
bees and golden butterflies love for its own dear freshness. 

A spirit, rare, calm and stately, shades the heart of the hillside — a tall, 
heaven-reaching pine ! The fallen needles pile themselves up, j r ear after 
year, to be near, to nurture the great mother who bore them. 

The tree stands there, a sage, the embodiment of a consciousness higher, 
grander than man's. 

The pine would pity could it know 

"The weariness, the fever and the fret 
Here, where men sit and hear each other groan." 

Emily Howard Foley. 



186 THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 

A Walnut Lady. 

Miss Crump looks as shrivelled and dry as a nut, to those who do not 
know her; but to her friends her bright little ways and sparkling e} - es 
suggest rather the squirrel. Her head is smooth and round, and shaped like 
a walnut. Her face is brown and covered with little wrinkles, so that it 
resembles the texture of a nut-shell. The thin, brown hair, lying flat on 
each side of the forehead, is like that painted on walnut dolls. All her face 
seems to be gathered together and to culminate in the small, sharp nose, 
from which the chin retreats, until quite indistinguishable from the throat. 
The muslin cap and kerchief, which Miss Crump always wears, are exact 
reproductions of those worn by my first walnut doll. 

S. D. Huntington. 



The Legend of Anita. 
"Mother, may I not run out of doors in this brisk wind to'dry my hair?" 
" Certainly not, my daughter. Is it possible that you have not heard of 
the fate of the fair Anita? She was a beautiful maiden with long golden 
hair. One day, after washing it, she ran out on the sunny hill-tops, saying 
that she would come back when the sun and wind had kissed the tears from 
her tresses. But she never returned, my daughter. She wandered up and 
down, farther and farther from home, till her body vanished from exhaustion, 
and nothing but her fine, silky hair was left. And even to-day, when the 
wind blows strong, you see her hair floating over the fields of grass, but the 
maiden herself has never been seen. So mothers never let their daughters 
run in the open air to dry their hair." 



Migdu had sinned, and the punishment was determined. Far down in a 
cave was he placed, and past his head whirred constantly a leathern belt, 
which ran over great pulleys. Here he was left quite alone, and his only 
possession was a pin. Absentmindedly he pinned it to his coat, and cared 
not what became of it. But in the early dawn a vision came to him, and he 
was bidden make his own release by pricking a way through the leathern 
belt. 

"Of what use is a little pin?" and Migdu curled his lip scornfully at his 
only tool. 



THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 18T 



" How can I stay here, and yet how can I perform the task ? " and Migdu 
bowed his head hopelessly. 

"What care and patience I should need! " and Migdu sighed sorrowfully* 

" It will be joy to be free ! " and Migdu seized the despised pin. 

Patiently he sat by the whirring belt; earnestly he attended to each 
revolution; and carefully he placed the pricks each time in the same line. 

Faster and faster speeds the belt over the great pulleys till — crack, the 
leather lias parted, and Migdu is free. He dwells no more in the darksome 
cave, over open fields he wanders ; and near his heart he cherishes the now 
prized pin. 

Grace E. Geenell. 



Fulness of Life. 
The orange tree that shades my window is glorious in fulness of life. It 
stands tall and straight with its slender branches, symmetrically grouped, 
reaching upward and outward in strong and graceful curves. Among the 
dark leaves are clusters of ripened fruit, burning in intensity of being. 
Almost hidden in the mass of foliage, hangs fruit not long since separated 
from the fostering flower-petals. Although it is time of fruitage, many 
blossoms yet remain — fair princesses that at the whisper of the wooing 
wind fling down their maiden crowns of gold and, sighing fragrance, speed 
away. Above them, where the young leaves glisten in the summer sun, are 
buds — frail prophets, baby seers of progress infinite. 



Misunderstood. 



" At last, at last I can leave the old tree and go out into the world as far 
as the wind may carry me. But what then? No one will notice me among 
the myriad leaves that blow. Can I thus serve the good of the universe? 
Ah, no, I will not ask the wind to bear me away. I will cease to preserve 
my individuality. I will consecrate myself to the good of the whole. What 
a little thing it is to be a leaf! Let me rather yield myself to the elements 
and become part of air, of earth, of plant, of man." 

Thus spoke the oak leaf as it sprang from the hold of the tree. The warm 
earth opened her bosom to welcome it ; the sun smiled approval. 

The wind hastening out to sea murmured, " Commonplace." 



188 THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 

The early winter dusk was fast settling down on the field. As I hastened 
homeward, I met two little people, probably six and eight j^ears of age. 

" Isn't it rather cold and dark for you to be out alone?" I asked. 

"No," was the hesitant reply of the little girl. She gathered her brown 
circular closer about her, however, and gave me a timid look from under her 
broad-brimmed hat. 

"Yes," in the same instant promptly answered her brother. With an 
apparent pride of life he shoved his small hands into his smaller pockets, 
drew in his chin, and quickened his boyish strides. 

Mary E. Dillingham. 



NOBSE FICTION. 



THE extent to which literary activity has spread in the Norseland is even 
greater than we at first suppose, and in prose fiction, especially, is the 
list of prominent names a long one. 

Although I am not quite ready to agree with the people who think the 
world a very small place, I am willing to admit that it is small enough to 
make us ashamed of our ignorance of some intensely fascinating portions of 
it. Scandinavia has long been a sealed book to the rest of the world, 
because so few people have had the curiosity to look within the cover and 
see the wonders contained in its pages. This far away land, almost sur- 
rounded by the waters of a northern ocean, with scanty resources and an 
inhospitable climate, is the fatherland of a people that has been too long 
unknown to contemporary nations. The reason for this is not hard to find. 
It is almost entirely the fault of circumstance — that enormous factor in all 
life. Geographical circumstance, commercial circumstance, linguistic cir- 
cumstance, have hitherto restricted the relations of Scandinavia with her 
sister nations. Shut in by the waters of that northern ocean whose tem- 
pests only Norsemen dared withstand; hindered from international com- 
merce because of scanty resources; lacking the moneyed wealth that can 
overbalance these deficiencies ; Scandinavia has offered little to satisfy the 
curiosity of the world around her. Add to these difficulties the almost 
insurmountable one of language — unlike any other, and spoken by so few 
people that it has absolutely no marketable value — and you can easily 



THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 189 

understand how the world has calmly passed by on the other side of all 
things Scandinavian. 

Men decry the modern craving for things new and strange, and cast 
reproach, perhaps justly, upon the unnatural curiosity of our age. Fortu- 
nately, there is never an evil without its accompanying good, and the present 
instance is a case in point. To-day, certain men, endowed with this, so- 
called, fatal curiosity, are turning their minds and pens toward the land of 
the midnight sun, and finding that the attempt to show Scandinavian liter- 
ature to the world is a most profitable occupation, for, in qualities of thought 
and of style, Scandinavian literature merits a place among the best litera- 
tures that the ages have produced. 

Fiction, in the sense here used, includes only the latest developments in 
literature, namely, the novel and the short story. We shall see that Scan- 
dinavia's sons and daughters have done well in both. Amid the galaxy of 
names from which we may choose representatives, we are impressed with 
the wonderful versatility of the Norseman. In one man are developed to a 
remarkable degree not only the qualities which make the successful novelist, 
but also those attributes which belong to poet, philosopher, essayist, histo- 
rian, scientist and statesman — rarely do we find a name whose owner is 
only poet or only essayist. 

The Scandinavian novel first appeared in Sweden about the middle of the 
eighteenth century, and the writer's name was Jacob Henrik Mork. His 
work is compared with that of Richardson, the father of the English novel. 
The fact that each is the pioneer in his own country has perhaps done more 
to establish the resemblance than any essential likeness in the works. Each 
man wrote long novels, slow in evolution and full of homilies on moralit}*- ; 
but, when this has been said, all points of similarity have been enumerated : 
the points of difference are far more numerous. In literary style the two 
men are extremely dissimilar. Richardson's style is commendable in that it 
was the first of its kind, and not because it has inherent merit. Mork's, on 
the contrary, sustains comparison with later writings, and possesses the 
qualities of clearness and exquisite delicacy. Richardson enjoys the unen- 
viable distinction of being called the anatomist of vice. Mork did not 
emphasize the darker side of life, although his novels show that he had 
thorough knowledge of all phases of human nature. 



190 THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 

Such were the beginnings of the Scandinavian novel; its continuance was 
almost a matter of course, and although the number of novelists at any one 
time has not been large, each one writes many books and preserves a high 
literary standard. 

As in English fiction, so in Scandinavian, a woman's name stands high 
among the earliest novelists. The Couutess Gyllembourg in Denmark and 
Jane Austen in England offer many points of similarity. Each one excelled 
in keenness of wit, in knowledge of life ; each possessed an almost faultless 
style — and these qualities make the novels of both women masterpieces of 
their kind. The Countess Gyllembourg, unlike Miss Austen, went beyond 
her own immediate neighborhood for the material of her stories, and, as a 
result, was enabled, in common with almost all Scandinavian writers, to 
endow her writings with an interest which is not distinctively Scandinavian, 
but distinctly human, and therefore universal. 

One man, however, a Jutlander, and a novelist of decided merit, Steen 
Steenson Blicher, stands out as markedly Scandinavian in all his work. 
Everything he wrote is tinged with the sombreness, sternness and coldness 
of his native land. He was a rigid realist at a time when all others were 
romanticists, — but his harsher qualities are mellowed and made addition- 
ally effective by the beauty of his style and the elegance of his diction. 
Nature and popular life are his favorite themes, and he has used the brush 
of the great master-painter in picturing what he best knows and loves. 

During this earlier time several women, most of them noble dames, wrote 
novels, but their works have not been translated, and report, not knowledge 
at first hand, tells us all that we know of them. 

Bernhard Severin Ingemann is the next great name in fiction. To him 
Denmark owes her first knowledge of the historical novel. He had fallen 
under the spell of Sir Walter Scott, and the author of Waverly certainly; 
influenced his style. "Waldemar, the Conqueror," is, perhaps, his finest 
novel. The greater part of the plot follows the course of history, but the 
climax is very romantic, and resembles the fairy stories we read in child- 
hood, where all rings merry as a marriage bell, and historical accuracj- is 
unknown. The opening chapter of this novel gives a description of Saxo 
Grammaticus in his stud}-, and is so like many of Scott's first pages that if 
it were not for occasional Norse names we might ascribe its authorship to 



THE WELEESLEY MAGAZINE. 191 

Scott. (Extract.) This representative novel may serve in one respect to 
illustrate a characteristic of all of Ihgemann's novels — in parts it is ex- 
tremely monotonous, and, often, where we expect a climax we meet with 
disappointment — all is at a level. This is directly attributable to Inge- 
mann's temperament. The man was so mild and unimpassioned that vio- 
lent expression of any sort was extremely distasteful to him. 

Gustaf Vilhelm Gumaelius, a name familiar to many of us, also followed 
the pattern set by Scott, but his work was so patently imitative that his 
nickname of " The Swedish Walter Scott" may be said, in passing, to suit 
his aim rather than his attainment. His activity was prolific, but his repu- 
tation is that of the imitator — not of the creative genius. 

Another name in the list of Sweden's great novelists demands notice. 
Karl Jason Ludvig Almqvist is perhaps the most remarkable man in all litera- 
ture. His personal character was extraordinary, and his career embraced every 
6ort of experience. He was pre-eminently a novelist, although his talent 
dealt with every variety of literature: the subject mattered little — what- 
ever his theme, it was presented faultlessly, and with a delicacy of treat- 
ment that has never been surpassed. His romances are undoubtedly the 
best in Swedish literature, and it is to be regretted that there is as yet no 
English translation of them. Almqvist's first novel, the "Book of the 
Thorn-Rose," made him suddenly famous, and, like most men exposed to 
popular enthusiasm, he could not withstand the flattery of his admirers — 
his downward course soon became evident. He was convicted of forgery 
and murder and fled the country, escaping to America, where, for a time, 
he was secretary to Abraham Lincoln. Sought out by American justice, he 
again escaped punishment, and fled to Europe, where in a remote and lonely 
corner of that continent he died as an outcast and an exile. 

Johannes Carsten Hauch is a very prominent name in Danish literature. 
Hauch possessed those graces of style that are the property of all Norsemen, 
but, in addition, he excelled in the ps}' , chological delineation of character — 
thus approaching the extremely modern spirit in novel-writing. Hauch was 
a poet in spirit, and his prose is full of music. He is avowedly a member of 
the romantic school of fiction ; the general character of his writing is earnest 
and moral and the dark side of life is wholly ignored. 

With the foregoing inadequate treatment of an immense subject, we leave 



192 THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 



the men who belong to the generation that has passed away and draw near 
to the men of to-day. The change is from unfamiliar to familiar ground: 
Bjornsen, Boyesen, Jansen, Kielland, Strindberg, and Bydberg are the 
greatest names we meet. Ibsen's lack of success in novel-writing excludes 
him from the present discussion, although in the consideration of dramatic 
literature his name of course stands pre-eminent. 

Of the six great names presented, I shall consider but three — Bjornsen, 
Boyesen, and Kielland. All of these men have been translated into English, 
and, although all are charming, they have their degrees of fascination, and 
possess distinct individuality, Boyesen, as an American, is well-known to us 
all, and his novels, written entirely in English, are accessible to readers 
everywhere. As a rule, Boyesen's prefaces have more in them than his 
novels — they are full of penetration, sympathy, and, when he touches upon 
character, philosophical insight. The charm of his novels lies in the matter 
rather than in the treatment. They lack climax, and are extremely inar- 
tistic. It is to be regretted that this Scandinavian graft upon American 
civilization does so much less credit to the parent stock than those wholly 
Norwegian contemporaries, Bjornsen and Kielland. 

Bjornsen far surpasses Boyesen in artistic power. He is a master of 
chaste and elegant diction, and the prominent characteristic of his stjde is 
simplicity. Even French art can claim no greater perfection than is found 
iu " Arne," and " Synnove Solbakken." These tales of peasant life first 
drew Bjornsen within the circle of fame, and his popularity has steadily in- 
creased. Without going into any detailed analysis, for which there is 
neither time nor space, the prominent literary qualities in Bjornsen's writing 
are : unerring sympathy in the interpretation of nature and human charac- 
ter, and the artistic expression of it through the channels indicated above. 

Kielland takes us into still another atmosphere. He is the youngest Nor- 
wegian writer of prominence, and his place is among the greatest men of his 
time. He brings the note of questioning and doubt into the literature of 
his country; he deals with great problems — social, religious, psychical — 
and his field of action is, in consequence, more extended than that of the 
preceding novelists. Kielland has perfected the Scandinavian short-story ; 
he has impressed its nationality upon it, but with a sympathy that is world 
wide and deep as humanity. 



THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 193 

Can any race lay claim to greater genius than the people of Scandinavia? 
A nation less in number than the dwellers in London has given birth to lit- 
erary artists whom the world delights to honor. The fertilizing thought of 
other lands has nourished the seed that so long lay dormant in the intellec- 
tual soil of Scandinavia, and the world to-day gazes in wonder and admira- 
tion upon the sturdy growth that has resulted. All honor to Scandinavia's 
great army of thinkers and writers; and, above all, to those whose privilege 
it is to hold the mirror up to human nature and help earth's sons and daugh- 
ters to higher planes of thought and action ! All hail to the makers of 
Northern Fiction ! M. G. McCattlley. 



THE BARK. 
Without, in the dark of the night, 
There's a murmur and whisper of leaves 

That rustle and jostle; 
A murmur and whisper of leaves; 
Soft sounds sighing out in the night. 
I look out through the dark, and see — nothing. 

Within, in the dark of my soul, 

There's a murmur and whisper of thoughts 

That rustle and jostle; 
A murmur and whisper of thoughts; 
Soft sighs sobbing out in my soul. 
T look in through the dark, and see — nothing. 

Florence Converse. 



sketches involving problems.— a settlement stubt. 

Apologia. 

THESE sketches do not claim to be philosophical nor scientific. They are 
neither literary nor artistic. They have neither form nor polish. Their 
only excuse for being is that they are "studies from life." Perhaps the rags 
and lack of manners of the originals may in part account and atone for the 
form and manner in which they are presented. 

Introductory. 
A long room. At either end windows reaching to the floor, through 
which struggle as many "gleams of departing day " as can pierce the outer 
smoky atmosphere. Three kindergarten tables and some fifty small chairs 



194 THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 

decorate the floor. Pictures which show refinement, taste, travel, culture, 
look down from the walls upon a swarm of eager, active, vehement children, 
whose more or less ragged and extremely dirt}'' garments are supplemented 
by still grimier hands and faces. Before one has had time to analyze the 
rich complexions, the flashing black eyes, the vivacity of movement and ex- 
pression, the fact becomes self-evident that here is a portion of that lesser 
Italy which bids fair, in some of our cities, to make a greater Italy. They 
are supposed to be sewing on aprons — once white — "aprons for their 
mothers for Christmas." At this moment they are comparatively quiet. 
The four or five "assistant workers" are trying in vain to supply all the 
demands incident to the frequent cries of "Teacher, teacher." There is 
actually no child banging upon the piano in the alcove, while a teacher's 
back is turned. The majority who have not been persuaded to put their 
outside wraps on the hooks in the hall provided for that purpose are sitting 
on them, or else, like Theresa, whose wrap consists of a shawl tied over her 
head, with firm decision continue to wear them. (The reason why will 
appear later.) 

Yes, quiet reigns after the introductory pandemonium. Only Graziella, 
the irrepressible and the irresistible, is sliding up and down the floor. To 
be sure, they are all singing, but — the Muses be thanked — this time it is 
not Annie Rooney, but a Christmas song learned at Public School. One of 
the children has just cuffed another girl off her seat. Another is swearing 
at a teacher, because — it would be a little hard for one of cooler Northern 
blood to sa}\ One wonders a little about " the good-will to men," but in 
view of the ten minutes just preceding, " the peace on earth " is more 
manifest. 

Rocca. 

Rocca — pronounced Rockie — but, oh, the scorn for it and } r ou if spelled 
that way, Rocca is Naples personified. Sturdy always, sullen and sulky 
in tempestuous bursts, with an atmosphere which is suggestive of a slumber- 
ing volcano. Brilliantly beautiful. Coal black hair ; reddest of cheeks and 
lips; richest of complexions. Lustrous black e} r es — such eyes — with a 
flash as of a stiletto, when her wish is frustrated. Will not by any device 
or persuasion be induced to say " please." The general position assumed is 
analagous to that sometimes displayed by one of those most diminutive 



THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 195 

beasts of burden seen in southern Italy, which occasionally refuses — abso- 
lute^ and unmistakably — to go. You don't much blame him when you 
remember that his burden is often so great that only the tips of his long ears 
and the end of his tail are visible. In consideration of the intolerable bur- 
dens under which the majority of the diminutive animal's neighboring fel- 
low-creatures are sunk, it is a relief to the spirit of humanity to find the 
spirit of revolt in this small American representative. Picture rebellious, 
beautiful Ilocca, with gleaming eye and darkened brow, putting on her things 
to go home, because "My ma wouldn't wear such an apron — it's too small." 
'•Teacher" gazes meditatively at the unusually big apron before her and 
wonders if Rocca's mother is the "fat lady" at the Dime Museum down the 
street, and then remembers that it is on exactly the same principle that the 
Neapolitan cab driver flings upon the pavement the unusually large fee you 
have given him and swears he will have none of it. As you walk off he 
picks it up and drives away complacently. That is what happened to Rocca. 
Yes, beyond a doubt, viewed in whatever aspect, Rocca is Naples personified. 

CUDJIE EWING. 

Cudjie her name probably is; Ewing 3'ou know it is not, but she does 
live on Ewing street. Her age is four or thereabouts. Her size, diminutive 
as to height, as to width inclined to rotundity. Her clothing too small for 
her size, so that when attired for the street her arms maintain a position of 
rigidity at an angle of forty-five degrees from her body. Her face is bright, 
not with soap and water, but with good-nature. Her answer is always a 
smile. The other girls have told you that she "can't speak any English." 
It has taken her half an hour to place four stitches with great painstaking 
and pride. She wishes each stitch to be approved. You approve the 
stitches, but gaze with dismay at the black spot all round about. You con- 
sult the other children and learn how to say in Italian, " You must wash your 
hands." Cudjie smiles and nods, while "the girl who lives in the same 
house" volunteers the information that " the pump in the back yard is frozen 
up and there ain't no water to wash wid." " Teacher " reflects some more. 
Her reflections are interrupted by a loud and distinct "Teacher, please tib 
me some t'read." Marvel of marvels ! It is Cudjie's voice. Cudjie, who 
"can't speak any English." Her roguish look of delight at your surprise 



196 THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 

makes you long to take her up in your arms. She is one of the babes who 
"was made to be cuddled." Some way her name suggests it — wee Cudjie ! 

Magdalena. 
Magdalena isn't round at all. In fact, she is very thin. Her arms don't 
maintain angles when her outside garments are put on, for the very good 
and simple reason that she hasn't any to put on. She isn't pretty, or 
bright looking. Her eyes are small, and if put on the witness stand j-ou 
would not venture to give their color. She looks stupid, supremely stupid. 
You wouldn't think she had an idea in her head, but what her small head 
cannot conceive in the way of mischief is not worth speaking of, and what 
time her small tongue ceases to wag must be only when she is in the land of 
dreams. It is Magdalena who has the especial affinity for pounding on the 
piano, for shoving a line of chairs up and down the room at the rate of 
Nancy Hanks. But chief of all her delights is when comes "Children, it is 
time to go home." None of them have an inclination in that direction. It 
takes much persuasion — nay, decision — to effect the " Good-night." You 
no sooner see them safely out of one door than they walk back through an- 
other. It is a more elaborate process than the game of a few years ago, 
" Pigs in Clover." Magdalena surpasses them all in the ingenuities of re- 
appearance. You heave a sigh of relief as the door closes on the last child, 
but an ominous rustle from behind a door leads to an investigation. There 
is a wild shout of triumph from Magdalena and she slips past your expectant 
fingers to race up and down the hall until, with a saucy look, she disappears 
into the cold and darkness without. 

Mary. 

Mary — one of the numerous Marys — Columbo, perhaps, is one of the 
comparatively quiet species, now that we have just discussed Magdalena. 
It gives your heart a pang to see that her cheeks are not as round and rosy 
as they once were. She used to know how she looked, for, once upon a 
time, she gazed long at a pretty assistant worker, and then burst out with, 
"Teacher, you look like me, don't you?" With the same ingenuousness, 
she informs you that '• Ma says that I needn't bother to sew that apron nice, 
'cause she'll rip it out and sew it on the machine when she gets it home." 
Mary is going to Italy to take care of her grandmother, and she can talk of 



THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 197 

little else. "The sun shines in Italy, doesn't it, teacher, and it's warm 
there, isn't it?" To which you give a hearty "Yes," with a lingering 
wonder as to how the Italian can live in this land so different from his 
sunny own, and with more than a wonder when you remember how the 
Italian lives in one of our great American cities. But Mary, in spite of pale 
cheeks and lack of warmth and sunshine, sings always. A sweet voice it is, 
as, on this afternoon, it tells of the angels and shepherds of the Christmas 
long ago. It somehow makes you remember that in that same land from 
which she came there was once a painter who bore the name Angelico, and 
who painted angels as never before or since. And with the memories of 
this one come others of " the lily of the Arno," the prophet reformer of San 
Marco, the exile poet who sang Paradise 

A Frequent Occurrence. 
I. 

The time of home-going has come. The sound of loud lamentation is 
heard from the hall where the cloaks and hoods are hung. A disconsolate 
little figure is sobbing with all the abandonment of her passionate nature 
that " Some one has stolen my hat." All the children except two or three 
"special friends," who form a sympathetic Greek chorus, are ushered out of 
the door, while the "assistant workers" ransack the premises. Inevitably 
no missing hat appears. They offer consolation in various waj's. The sobs 
grow louder and more violent and cease not for one minute. 

II. 

The " Head Lady " appears upon the scene. She takes the disconsolate 
little mortal upon her lap. She folds her in her arms. A face always alight 
with human love and sympathy bends over the tear-stained one below her. 
The sobs cease. All is quiet. The "assistant workers," whose gloves, 
overshoes and mufflers, not to speak of thimbles, needles and thread, have 
vanished into the same limbo whence has gone the hat, stand about quiet 
too. Do you wonder ? The door swings open with a bang. Giovanni, the 
big brother, aged nine, rushes in unceremoniously to take his sister home. 
The "Head Lady" explains the cause of the scene. A substitute for the 
hat is found, with the promise of a future call, and the woe-begone maiden 
departs comforted. 



198 THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 



In Conclusion. 

A crowded cable car, in which the darkness is made visible through the 
medium of two smoky kerosene lamps. An " assistant worker " sits lost in 
thought — unmindful of all around her. Her morning's reading in Mr. 
Symonds' Renaissance of Italy, with Machiavelli, Alexander VI. and the 
Borgias forms a background not unsuitable, perhaps, to the foreground of the 
afternoon. No wonder they lie and steal, she says to herself. She medi- 
tates upon the perniciousness of free aprons,- etc., and then wonders how 
otherwise the children can be reached and held. The mothers must see 
some gain in sending them or else it would be more profitable to keep them 
at home to pull bastings and sew buttons for sweaters. Query — are we 
doing more harm than good? The more the thought, the more the tangle. 
Municipal government, tenement house inspection and regulation, ready- 
made clothing, immigration, naturalization laws all swarm one upon another 
in seemingly hopeless confusion. There is a jerk, a sudden halt. Some one 
remarks that "the cable is stuck." An "assistant worker" looks at her 
watch, reflects that there is to be company to dinner, and performs mathe- 
matical problems as to the amount of time that will be necessaiy to indulge 
in the very necessary ablutions and to don another gown. The gentlemen 
go out to see "how things are getting on." A squeaky accordion sounds 
upon the air. A small maiden, stiff with cold, stumbles into the car. She 
sings a few lines in a cracked, hard voice, while, on the platform, the brother 
with the accordion keeps an eye out for the conductor. She tries to dance 
with her poor, numb feet, makes a dash around the car with her tambourine, 
with a pleading, "Please, give me sometin', and finally beats a hasty retreat 
as the cable comes to terms and the conductor and absent gentlemen appear. 
The problems are not lessened by this episode. Oh, why? Oh, how? 

And yet, after all, as the street lamps flicker across the freshly fallen 
snow and the clear, cold air conies against her cheeks, the song of the child 
returns. It isn't such a hopeless tangle. There must be a way out. The 
" peace on earth, good will towards men " is growing larger as the years go on. 

Caroline L. Williamson. 



THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 199 



(gMforiftf. 

CONSIDERED from a literary point of view the most noticeable charac- 
teristic of the Wellesley student is her placidness. We say from a 
literary point of view, since it is from this standpoint alone that we, as a 
literary magazine, may presume to assert legitimate opinions. 

We are well aware that the Wellesley student is not accustomed to think 
of herself as placid. With regard to politics she can be most vigorous, and 
at political rallies she has been known to become positivel} r rampant. In 
connection with her class her activity is almost alarming, for with Senior 
Day as an incentive, she is capable of doing without food or sleep in order 
to accomplish her ends. As a member of a society her capacity for keeping 
secrets and her ardor in attending committee meetings and working in be- 
tween whiles is almost unlimited. But considered from a literary point of 
view she is placid; placid to heights of somnolence. 

If anything could have been supposed to arouse the Wellesley student 
from her literary apathy it must have been the recent changes accomplished 
in the English Department of the college. New courses, new methods, new 
instructors! Wellesley cannot plead lack of efficient literary training for 
her students. The energy generated by the combined efforts of the depart- 
ments of literature and English ought ere this to have kindled a bonfire of 
enthusiasm and activity; but the Wellesley student is evidently not good 
fuel for a literary bonfire, she doesn't burn well; she only smokes and 
hisses a little, and then goes out sleepily. 

At the beginning of last term a gentle, lady-like enthusiasm might have 
been detected in the tone of the student as she told of her new courses. 
And when the day of reckoning came, in spite of the shock which must be 
inevitable when one discovers that one's literary efforts are, to say the least, 
ordinary, she said she liked it, and listened to criticism with an impersonal 
appreciation which on other occasions might have been most gratifying. In 
her keen enjoyment of the wit and sarcasm of her instructor the personal 
flavor of the discourse was for the most part lost upon her. 

It is one thing to possess delicate appreciation of wit and sarcasm; it is 
one thing to possess a gentle and forgiving disposition; it would seem that 
it is quite another thing to possess a sensitiveness to literary criticism. 



200 THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 

When some one tells us that we appear to be totally lacking in originality, 
and that even when we have ideas our expression of them is commonplace, 
are we to remain unmoved. We work hard, no one attempts to deny that, 
but is it not humilitating to be told that we cram ourselves with facts to 
the verge of mental indigestion and then sit like Pickwick's fat boy, en- 
veloped in a torpor of speech and of thought. The originality of the Welles- 
ley student makes itself apparent day after day in action, wh} r not in her 
written work. It is not true that we have no opinions of our own. But it 
remains yet to be proven in black and white. 



AMONG incentives to activity, the good opinion of the community has 
always ranked high, and deservedly, since public sentiment represents 
the conscience and intellect of the age, and, being of too general a nature to 
involve personal interests, is also on the whole to be considered honest. It 
is true that philosophers profess to scorn public opinion, declaring it of 
necessity in the wrong; but even philosophers have not always been proof 
against its potency, and of common men we may safely affirm that no other 
influence, unless of individual conscience, has ever told upon them so forci- 
bly. Statesmen and agitators long ago realized this immense power lodged 
in the general public, and while they bent their knees before crowned heads, 
they turned their wits to devising means for winning over popular senti- 
ment. Reformers discharged their pistols at ro}-alty, but their cannon they 
fired on society in general. Indeed, public opinion is so great a force that 
if it be turned in a wrong direction, Right may wring her hands in helpless 
impotence behind its back ; if it be corrupt purity must perish ; ifit be gone 
over to flatteiy and servilitv, heroic endeavor is likely to die of suffocation. 
Wherever a community of any kind exists, a general public sentiment 
follows as a matter of course. Here at Wellesley we are under the influence 
both of the views of general societ}\ finding expression through our home 
friends and acquaintances, and of college sentiment, holding sway within 
the college fence. The latter, though narrower in its range, has probably a 
much stronger effect upon our daily actions and tendencies. This effect may 
last only during the period of our college course, or it may stretch out in- 
definitely over our future lives. In any case, it is important. Every 



THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 201 

student entering college feels its influence when she wishes more or less 
consciously for the good will and good opinion of her fellow students. She 
feels it when she adopts a principle or forms an opinion. She may not 
always think in harmony with it, but she is not likely to act strongly in op- 
position. Further, if she have any ambition, she will probably find no 
more powerful incentive to energetic work than the hope of gaining the 
admiration of the other college girls. Indeed, a healthy ambition often 
takes its rise from some favorable criticism on the part of the college at 
large. Young girls come to college with no definite purpose in life, and 
with little realization of their own powers. Their conscious self-develop- 
ment, their determination to make the most of themselves, begins when 
their fellow-students find them out and urge them on. All this shows the 
great strength vested in general college criticism, and the absolute necessity 
of keeping it pure and vigorous, if we would have college life produce its 
best results. 

We believe that Wellesley students' criticism of one another is in tone and 
character something of which we may be proud. It is frank, generous, 
enthusiastic, totally free from jealousy, and devoid of selfishness. It is a 
direct contradiction of that foundationlessold statement that women cannot 
think well of one another. But it has two important defects. It shows 
lack of discrimination and of energy. The first fault is the result of carry- 
ing a virtue too far, so that because we like to give pleasure and say com- 
plimentary things to one another, we fall into the mistake of invariably 
praising work whether it seems noticeably good or not, and of clothing what 
should be very moderate approval in extravagant language. Thus, of course, 
compliments defeat their own ends, and pleasant little words of admiration 
come to mean, here at college, no more than the courteous prevarications 
that of necessity pass current in general society. Now the Wellesley Mag- 
azine does not advocate the establishment of a mutual fault-finding associa- 
tion or anything of the kind; we believe that however wholesome adverse 
criticism may be, it is for the most part impracticable and undesirable be- 
tween fellow-workers. But at the same time, there must be a possibility of 
so regulating our praises of one another by the standard of honesty that 
spoken admiration may truly give pleasure, cany weight and furnish a 
powerful incentive. 



202 THE WELLESLEY MAGAZIHE 

The second defect — lack of energy — show sitself in our distribution of class 
and society offices and honors. When we happen upon a girl capable of 
doing well a certain kind of work, we hail her with delight, set her apart as 
the recipient of honors upon all future occasions, and do not so much as ask 
whether there may not be some one quite as worthy among those whom 
chance has never brought to our notice. In other words, we pile too many 
duties and privileges upon one individual. We narrow too much the execu- 
tive circle. This shows want of vigor, want of keenness and alertness, 
want of breadth. It is in every, way injurious. It prevents the advance- 
ment of those possibly entirely fitted, depriving them not only of pleasure, 
but also of profitable experience. It overburdens those whose hands are 
already full, and tends to lower the standard of their work. But, most 
serious of all, it narrows and so lowers the character of class and college, 
it blinds the body of students to their full aggregate powers, it interferes 
with the most complete individualization of work. A little more care in 
investigating each girl's capabilities, a little less leaving of the matter to 
chance and to the interest of friends would obviate the whole difficulty. 
We do not believe that the trouble comes through any conscious disposition 
to favoritism, cliques, or selfishness. Such a suggestion is totally at vari- 
ance with the character of Wellesley students. We do think it is due to our 
hurried lives, to thoughtlessness, and to indolence, and that it calls for im- 
mediate remedy. 

With the removal of these two defects, a criticism that in its friendliness 
tends toward flattery, and a disposition to confine college preferments with- 
in too narrow a circle, we believe that college sentiment, ahead)' powerful 
for good, would become one of the most beneficial influences of the course. 



ON returning to college after the Christmas holidays we are confronted at 
once by the mid-year examinations. Alma Mater now offers her 
daughters an opportunity to show by their feats of prowess the strength and 
agility developed by months of mental training. The "mid-years" are the 
culmination of a semester's work, and, to a certain degree they exhibit the 
results of a semester's work. In general, the life of a student can be read 
in her examination papers. The studious and the frivolous ; the thorough 



THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 203 

and the superficial ; the conscientious and the careless; each answers the 
summons in her own way — the way she has been pursuing for four months 
past. Not only the way of her studies, but also the way of her recreations; 
not only the way of her life at college, but also the way of her life during 
the three weeks of vacation immediately preceding the examinations. The 
results of examinations depend almost as much on the- physical as on the 
mental health of the student, only attainable by a just proportion of study 
and play through tlie whole year. Three weeks of rest are scarcely enough 
to repair the harm done by three months of close application to study with- 
out regard to proper exercise and fresh air, though when the mischief has 
not gone too far an evanescent freshness may be gained in that time some- 
what in the manner in which knowledge, equally fleeting, is "crammed " at 
the last moment by the procrastinating student. On the other hand three 
weeks of injudicious gayety are enough to unfit almost nuy girl for the 
thoughtful and serious work expected before and during examination time, 
even if her life at college has been carefully regulated. The holidays 
should not make a complete break in the college life of the student ; they 
should mean merely that, for a while, sensible, healthful pleasures are to 
usurp the place given at other times to healthful, stimulating work. But 
the student should hold her work in mind in so much that all her pleasures 
and recreations may tend to aid her in it, not to unfit her to return to it 
again after her resting time is over. The three weeks of vacation, as well 
as the three months of study, may be spent with the greatest profit, or they 
may be abused, with direful results. Examinations come like a day of 
judgment; miser and spendthrift are both convicted, if they have misused 
time, hoarding it as too precious to be spent in honest fun, or flinging it 
away carelessly, neglecting its golden opportunities. 



204 THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 



Z§i §ttt $?ress. 



The article on " Student Self-Government" that appeared in a recent number 
of the Magazine raised two questions in the minds of Wellesley students: 
<(i) Do we, as students, really desire self-government? and (2) What method of 
government is being evolved here in our midst? 

Do the Wellesley students desire self-government? Put the question to any 
:girl, to any number of girls. Those who answer impulsively will cry out " Yes," 
and wonder that you asked ; those who are more conservative will still say glibly, 
"Yes, ultimately." But those who hesitate before they answer will give one 
of two replies, either it will be " Yes, and we are getting it slowly, by degrees" ; 
or it will be " No, or we would have been governing ourselves long ago." What 
is the meaning of this difference of opinion? Which answer is the true one? 
Each, and yet not one. They indicate different stages of thought, and often it is 
the one who longs for it the most earnestly who feels that the students as a body 
care for it not at all. 

Yet each girl believes that she individually desires self-government for the stu- 
dents of the college; do all combine in making progress in self-government? 
Each declares it to be her firm hope that such a government will eventually be 
established here by the students, — how many strive to bring that future state 
nearer by even one forward step? Each asserts her own interest in the question, 
— how many have an intelligent opinion on the subject ? how many know the 
state of the case in other colleges? In short, how many have thought at all on 
the subject in a practical way? 

I have heard editors of this Magazine complain because they could not persuade 
girls to write on this subject. What reasons did the girls give? This one rea- 
son: "I have nothing to say; I have not thought aboitt it " Yet these are the 
girls who compose our junior and senior classes; the girls who are ready to tell 
what were the legislative powers of the Peers of Charlemagne, and what the con- 
stitutional status of the yeoman in the time of Richard II., but when it comes to 
a question affecting their own privileges, affecting the interests of the college 
they so greatly love, they have neither words nor thoughts. Is this too severe on 
Wellesley's seiious, earnest students? Because a girl is not willing to make pub- 
lic her thoughts, that does not prove she has none ; and no doubt this silent 
unconscious thinking bears its own fruit. It certainly helps train the individual, 
it is good as far as it goes, but it fails utterly to meet the present need. It is not 



THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 205 

the thinkers who merely sit and think that help the world on, it is the thinkers 
who put their thoughts into words and deeds whom men remember with grati- 
tude. In the face of their own statements to the contrary, I dare assert that the 
majority of Wellesley s' udents do think on this subject in a desultory, indifferent 
fashion, that they do plan in a third-person-future style. But I assert, also, that 
a minority, call it small if you please, do nothing of the kind. And for this 
minority let us raise our Te Dcums — for the girls who think earnestly, enthusi- 
astically on this and all subjects of college interest, who stand ready with care- 
fully considered opinions and plans almost matured, who work, with eyes fixed 
on the future, in and for che present. Few they are, I grant, who answer to this 
description ; and yet on these few rests the task of arousing public opinion to a 
realization of the importance of this question, to a realization that the answer lies 
wholly with the students — with the majority. 

And let us who compose this majority see to it that we are not long in taking 
the first forward step. That step has been lately pointed out to us, — the exercise 
by the students of "such powers as they already have." How many of us ever 
know what constitutes these powers? Let us not be slow in finding out. Above 
all let us remember that it rests with us of the majority to say when and how we 
are to exercise our powers; that a period of ultimate self-government by the stu- 
dents presupposes a period of transition and progress ; that the future method of 
college government will be largely determined by present students, just as the 
college of the present is the outcome of past causes. 

This leads us to the consideration of the second question : What method of 
student self-government is being evolved at Wellesley? 

Unacquainted with the history of the college, except for the last three years, it 
would be presumption indeed for one of "the majority" to attempt a discussion 
of the subject. But one well-known feature that has been developed only lately 
seems so truly characteristic of Wellesley that it can but be deemed as significant 
of the direction of future development. I refer to the Committees of Conference 
which both faculty and students find so satisfactory. By this means the faculty 
are enabled the better to understand just what the students desire, and their 
reasons for the desire ; while the students are made to realize more strongly that 
the faculty are ready to act with as well as for them. They are, in fact, a means 
of communication between the govexTied and the governing, by which reciprocal 
representation is effected; by which the v ishes of the students are represented 
to the faculty and the reasons of the faculty to the students. So far their efforts 
have been attended with marked success. What significance may we attach to 



206 THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 

this fact? Simply that desired ends are best obtained by united efforts, by the 
efforts, in this case, of teacher and student acting together. That at Wellesley, it 
is the tendency for the students to gain a wider control over matters relating to 
their interests as college women, through association with the faculty — not as at 
Harvard and Bryn Mawr through separate associations entirely their own. I may 
be mistaken, but it seems to me that what we as students desire is not control 
over certain matters as a separate organization, but a voice in the college legisla- 
ture, representation in college legislation. 

The success of these very committees is due to the fact that they did represent 
the faculty to the students, the students to the faculty. We feel them to be a step 
toward full representation, we feel also that the time has come for this fuller 
representation, when the students shall have a part in the making of laws by 
which they, and they alone, must abide. True, this means a mighty change in 
the principle of things, and yet can we doubt it would be a change for the better? 
Legislation without representation was once called tyranny; and if Harvard men, 
whose staid demeanor and self-control are surely no more proverbial than our 
own, if the students of Bryn Mawr — who are after all merely women like our- 
selves — if they are allowed councils of self-government and control over matters 
in which we have no voice, if such powf.rs are given to others, surely Wellesley 
would be running no great risk in granting her students a pait in the making of 
her laws. While we know that "the rules express no arbitrary will of the faculty, 
but the mature judgment of a body of thoughtful persons as to the conditions 
under which alone the student can obtain the very things for which he came," yet 
we feel that it would be good for the student to have the opportunity of express- 
ing his opinion as to what these conditions shall be. While we glory in the wis- 
dom and justice of the rules we obey, we feel that the college government is prac- 
tically a government for the students by the faculty, whereas it should be a gov- 
ernment in which the students have a recognized part, an influential voice. Thus, 
I repeat, by having a direct part in the existing order of things, not by establish- 
ing a new method, by representation and not by separation, will we as Wellesley 
students best govern ourselves. 

If I am right in believing this to be the method toward which Wellesley is tend- 
ing, it behooves us as students to think carefully about the matter, and to do our 
part toward bringing it to pass. If this is a mistaken view, let us get at the truth 
without further delay, and when we have found it, let us act by it. Instead of 
shirking our own responsibility by vaguely hoping for ultimate self-government, 
let us work for the future in the present. 

Frances H. Lucas. 



THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 207 



II. 

A recent editorial on college friendships has attracted my attention and to my 
mind its position invites a challenge. Agreeing perfectly with the view there 
taken as to the responsibility involved in making friends, for surely true friend- 
ship like marriage is not to be entered into "lightly or unadvisedly," there seems 
to me another side of the question often disregarded. 

Our inclination to seek the best in friendship, to rise toward those above us, is 
great according to the proportion of aspiration in us, and that aspiration in this 
college atmosphere, ever inspiring us toward that which is ideal, is generally an 
increasing factor. "To make friends with the noblest and best people in the 
circle of our acquaintance is a duty involved in the determination of our environ- 
ment." This is an undeniable fact; but has all been said? Is there not another 
duty of friendship? There is a giving as well as a getting. In the desire to seek 
that which is animating and uplifting is there not sometimes a temptation to for- 
get "the equals and inferiors, who inspire in us no spirit of emulation," a ten- 
dency to gather into our own garners the best about us, but a blindness to the 
needs of those who crave what we might give them? There are many whom we 
meet daily to whom our words or our friendship, just because we may happen to 
them to seem above their level in intellect or heart graces, would be perhaps the 
reviving touch, the life-giving influence which they unconsciously wait to receive 
in order to be their best selves. 

In no attitude of condescension then, but with an insight born of love, looking 
for the best in every one, let us cultivate those friendships which are self-giving, as 
well as those in which we humbly feel ourselves the receivers. We ma)' have 
both at the same time; we may rise toward the one friend as we bend toward the 
other; but let us not measure what we give by what we gain in this beautiful tie 
of friend with friend. 

Yet no giving in a true friendship is utterly without return. We shall find 
something added to our own lives when we least expect it. It is worthy of the 
effort, this opening of new possibilities to others and to ourselves. 

G. E. M. 

III. 

To the Editor of the Welt.esley Magazine: — A recent editorial on 
friendship seems to me to have ascribed too sordid and mechanical a nature to 
the most mysterious and most beautiful of human relationships. Will you allow 



208 THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 



me a little space in which to explain my meaning? There are some things that, 
like happiness, do not come to him who seeks them. They are divine gifts, or 
rather they are the effect of great natural forces whose ultimate nature we cannot 
understand and whose workings we are as yet only beginning to investigate. I 
believe friendship to be of such a kind; not a thing which we make and unmake 
at will, not something over which we bargain and hesitate ; but the result of 
powers mysterious and irresistible, as little within our control as chemical affinity, 
and which, once formed, can be destroyed only by violent chemical separation. 

Granting, however, for the times that friendships might be created by conscious 
volition, let us consider the practical difficulties in the way of such a method of 
selection as you suggest. First, upon what basis is the choice to be made? 
You say that our friends should be our superiors, those from whom we may hope 
to derive benefit. It does not seem to me indisputable that we derive more bene- 
fit from association with superiors than inferiors, but admitting that, in what 
way are they to be our superiors? Intellectually, morally, in point of culture, 
principle, education, artistic taste or social position? Must we seek a combina- 
tion of all these? If we attempt to choose, which quality should take precedence? 
If we decide on intellectual endowment, should we seek breadth or depth of 
thought, originality or receptivity, general information or the powers of a special- 
ist? Should we seek a mind whose bent is like our own or opposite? Should 
we choose one whose development is well advanced, or one which gives promise 
of great future growth ? Further, even when we have decided on the desirable 
quality, how, if our insight stops short of infallibility, can we know whether a 
person surely possesses it? 

But, for the sake of argument, I grant again that the decision has been success- 
fully made and the friendship begun. Next, you say we should constantly strive 
to pass from lower to higher friendships. In other words, we must all the time 
watch the circle of our acquaintances to see whether some one has not appeared 
on the horizon more desirable as a friend than the one with whom we are at 
present associated. Now will arise all the difficulties of comparison. No two 
minds, we are told, were ever formed after the same model, so that wc cannot lay 
these two down side by side and measure them as one would two sticks. There 
would be differences of shape as well as size. Finally, suppose this remarkable 
feat to have been accomplished, and that we have proved ourselves possessed of 
the power, hitherto reckoned rare, of understanding human nature accurately and 
adapting it readily to one's own ends. What of the morality of all this? What 
of sentiment and loyalty, of unselfishness and devotion? In this age of scientific 



THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 209 

analysis, have we analyzed all affection out of friendship itself and left it but a 
dry husk of utilitarianism? Then let us say good-bye to the old word, around 
which some possibly unscientific but certainly pleasing memories cling, and admit 
that this new relationship is not friendship at all. 

Indeed, in your editorial, it seems to me that you do not clearly distinguish be- 
tween the terms friendship and acquaintanceship. Two people may be very 
thoroughly acquainted and yet feel no spark of affection. True friendship is 
quite a different thing from passing connection or even intimacy. We may sit 
reverently at the feet of a great man as we sit at the feet of a teacher, but that is 
not friendship. We may bow in gratitude before a benefactor, but that is not 
friendship. We may stand side by side with a fellow-workman all our days, but 
that is not necessarily friendship. Now, in choosing acquaintances, we might 
indeed proceed somewhat on the method you suggest, since here no affection and 
no especial loyalty is implied. Still even here there is a difficulty. If it be not 
too wild an assumption, suppose that some one who is my inferior should, in 
accordance with your rule, seek my acquaintance. How would it be possible for 
me, also in accordance with your rule, to permit the intimacy ? In the same way, 
how could my superior agree to any sort of fellowship with me? 

Indeed, I seem to see society in one mad rush — not altogether a fancy picture 
— each man fleeing desperately from the man behind and grasping frantically at 
the coat-tails of the one in front. It is a wearisome sight. Would it not be 
better, after all, to go back to the old way, where acquaintanceship comes because 
destiny has thrown us together and because we find something interesting in every 
human being, and where friendship springs up as poetry from the heart of a 
poet, not because of any reward it brings, but simply because it must? 

'93- 



Far From To-day. By Gertrude Hall. 

Again the short story, but the short story with a difference. Somebody in this 
nineteenth century has been dreaming dreams in the midst of the mediaeval 
forests. 

What a surprise! what a relief! Here are no crisp sketches of the New Eng- 
land spinster ; no latest reports from Red Man's Gulch ; no rambling of Befo' de 
Wah ; but voices from out the mists of Feudalism; dialect stories of the Middle 



210 THE "WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 

Ages. Lazy little tales that do not hurry to the finish, modern fashion, but linger 
dreamily over a bit of sunset, or the shadows under a forest tree, or the end of a 
man's life, with a leisureliness most welcome, most refreshing. 

There are six of these stories, and the good points in each have such a way of 
starting to the face that one again experiences relief upon discovering that it will 
be difficult to say for this once: "The most exquisite story in this collection is 
the first " or the last, or the next to the last, as the case may be. Perhaps the 
most prominent idea one has concerning them is that they are, as the title asserts, 
"far from to-day," very far ; there is a haze over them. One of their peculiar- 
ities and one which tends artistically to account for this haze is the fact that the 
author never defines their geographical limits; she never plants her incident 
irrevocably in the north-west coiner of Germany or on the left bank of the Seine; 
she talks about a city, or a river, or a kingdom and thereby preserves a sort of 
fairy tale perspective. And yet she has imparted a decided race distinction to the 
heroes and heroines of the different tales, and this, not by their names alone 
(although it were not easy to place Servirol and Aurore otherwhere than France, 
or Philotis and the sons of Philemon beyond the boundaries of Greece), but by 
a quaint change of dialect, which makes the speech of Ulf utterly dirTerent from 
that of the shepherd-king, and by an attention to time and custom, which makes 
the city of Hildgard and Lothrich other than the city of Sweyn. 

In themes the stories are not strikingly new. "The Sons of Philemon" 
tells of the two brothers who loved the same woman, but loved their honor more, 
and of the mother who could not choose which one of them should die. In 
Servirol appears the man who steals away the wife of his friend; in "Shep- 
herd," two who love each other remain forever parted; but the changes are rung 
in a different key. The modern short story is apt to be sounded upon a somewhat 
shrill note, and these come to us like the sigh of the wind through many trees. 
It is only because she lives in the nineteenth century, however, that Miss Hall 
has been able to make her men and women stand out so clearly in the midst of 
mist; she has entered into the thoughts of these mediaeval dreamlings of hers as 
only a modern writer would. 

It may be that sometimes she is a little tardy in bringing her tale to its close; 
Sylvanus, otherwise so exquisite, and perhaps more than all the others, original 
in conception, drags just a bit at the last page, the last sentence; we of the 
modern hour like best to cut away our moral, our selvidge edge from off the end 
of the warp and woof. 

They are sad little tales, every one; but with the sadness of optimism, the grief 
of conquest. 



THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 211 

It is good to be able to shut one's self out from the nearness of the present 
sometimes, and it has been good to be able to hang the quaint old-world tapestry 
of thought in this little book before the door of the near to-day. 



Records of Tennyson, Ruskin, and Browning. By Anne Thackeray Ritchie. 

Whether the motive be curiosity or love, it is certain that there is usually a de- 
sire, on the part of those who study the writings of a great man, to know some- 
thing of his life and personality. Indeed, the relation between the book and the 
man back of it, between the teaching and the life through which it comes is one 
not to be disregarded in estimating the influence of any leader of thought. Too 
often the revelation of this inner life is painful and disappointing, but. Mrs. 
Ritchie's records give an added reverence for these three great interpreters of our 
century's life. 

Memories, personal impressions collected by a hand which is that of friend 
rather than critic, — this is all that the book claims to be; but the work is done 
with the touch of the artist. From the opening picture of the little Tennyson, in 
the Somersby garden, making his first line of poetry as the wind blew his waving 
hair, saying, " I hear a voice that's speaking in the wind," to the closing scene of 
the volume in which the friends of Robert Browning, " the man of rock and sun- 
shine," pay their last tribute at his grave, a fine sense of the fitness of things, of 
that which is harmonious in each recorded life, makes the work as a whole beauti- 
ful. We enter with the author the charmed atmosphere that lay about these great 
souls as she felt it from her own place in the circles of literature, as the daughter 
of Thackeray. With her we sit at the feast of high thoughts, sharing the genial 
hospitality which these men dispensed, " at the kind board where the salt has not 
lost its savor in the years that have passed, and where the guests can say their 
grace not for bread and wine alone." 

The sketch of Tennyson, the poet who lived so close to nature that he caught 
her music, is especially delightful. His personality, recluse though he was, with 
life hidden from the curious world, becomes very real to us through the author's 
personal knowledge of him. Ruskin, as she herself says, she sketches not from 
the position of the art critic, but from her own point of view only, "as a light- 
bearer, as a writer of the English language, as a poet in his own measure." It is 
the man himself she gives us, the warm-hearted, sometimes impulsive, poetic 3 et 
often didactic, Ruskin; but his very departures from his sternly outlined theories, 
as shown in extracts from letters to his friends, draw us nearer to him. The 
treatment of his character and teaching is most sympathetic. 



212 THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 



Mr. and Mrs. Browning live again for us in the affection of Mrs Ritchie, for 
her pen seems here even more than elsewhere guided by loving and devoted 
reverence. The unusual character of these two poets and their beautiful union 
impress us more strongly than ever. The noble-souled man, a vivid illustration 
of Sir Philip Sydney's definition of a gentleman, "High thoughts erected in the 
heart of courtesy," with his patience under misunderstanding, his kindness and 
charity, wins us once again by his life as he has done by his words. The picture 
of their charming home life gives us glimpses of one who was at her best there. 
" Mrs. Browning was a great writer ; but I think she was even greater as woman 
than as writer, and any account of her would be incomplete which did not j:ut 
these facts first and foremost in her history," says Mrs. Ritchie. 

Although the aim of these reminiscenses is distinctly to picture the men rather 
than criticise their work, yet we find here and there indications of the author's 
thoughtful estimates of it. Our attention is called to "the remarkable influence 
which Alfred Tennyson seems to have had from the very first upon his contem- 
poraries even before his genius had been recognized by the rest of the world." 
She quotes a characteristic bit from Carlyle's words about him : "A man, solitary 
and sad as certain men are, dwelling in an atmosphere of gloom ; carrying a bit of 
chaos about him, in short, which he is manufacturing into cosmos." Of Ruskin 
she gives us this appreciative comment of her own: "There is also all the 
extraordinary influence of personality in his teaching. Oracles like Mill and 
Spencer veil their faces when they utter. Poets and orators like Ruskin uncover 
their heads when they address their congregation." 

To read these "appreciations," if such they may be called, is to dwell for a 

time in the company of those who interpret the world to us with a high spiritual 

insight; it is to share the ideal world of Tennyson, to see beauty in common 

things with Ruskin, and to look at men with Browning's optimism. This is 

uplifting and ennobling, therefore we cannot but be thankful for the privilege 

Mrs. Ritchie's work affords us. 

Grace Eldridge Mix. 



We are glad to welcome among the fresh magazines that crown our table a new 
monthly, —The "College Fraternity," "issued in the interest of the American 
College Fraternity System." It satisfactorily meets a long felt want, and the first 
number is full of interest. 

The November numbers of several of our exchanges divide their honors between 
" Columbus," "The World's Fair," and " Foot-ball." 



THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 213 



The " Southern Collegian " gives us among its silhouettes quite a strong sketch 
_ " The Minister's Story." 

The "Nassau Lit." opens with its prize essay, a well written article, having for 
its subject " India's Place in English Fiction." It excels the majority of essays 
on literary subjects printed in college magazines, in that it bears evidence of origi- 
nal work as well as of scholarly research. Through the editorial columns of the 
magazine is expressed the desire for an Inter-Collegiate Debate League to be 
formed between Princeton, Yale, and Harvard, the contest to take place in New 
York. 

The Yale papers still keep up a vigorous protest against compulsory chapel, 
and seem to feel that the day of reform is at hand. They have our cordial sym- 
pathy in the struggle. 

The Lading number of the " Harvard Monthly" is an essay on "The Roman- 
tic Elements in Lord Tennyson's Poetry." The subject is handled in a scholarly 
fashion, and is the best of the Tennyson jjapers that have appeared in the recent 
exchanges. 

The expectations aroused by the pretty cover of the "Mount Holyoke" find 
full justification in the contents of the November number, now before us. 
A large part of the magazine is this month devoted to a " Columbus Corner," 
containing several interesting sketches and bits of verse. " A Magazine Carnival" 
makes some sharp hits at the prominent periodicals of the day. 

The "Harvard Monthly " for December adopts a charmingly generous tone in its 
leading article, "A Glimpse of Yale." The first of a series of papers on "Cardi- 
nal Newman" is sympathetic and keen. 

The best part of the " Vassar Miscellany " is found this month under " Points 
of View." The subjects treated are anything but new — the college curriculum 
vs. class and committee work, recreation vs. study, Sunday rest, etc. The dis- 
cussion, however, is well worth reading. 

The leading article in "The Inlander," University of Michigan, on "The 
Sphere of the State" is thoughtful and interesting. 

In the Yale Literary Magazine is a bright sketch entitled " Children of a Larger 
Growth." The cynicism in the first part is much better done than the attempt at 
pathos in the second. 

" From the Book of Lives," an Italian story in the "Southern Collegian," is 
strongly worked up and holds the attention until the climax, which is, however, 
too horrible and purposeless to be aitistic. 

The holiday number of the " Nassau Lit." is full of bright and entertaining 



214 THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 



stories and sketches. An additional one, " False Originality," deals a necessary 
blow at a A^ariety of literary style that is becoming painfully frequent in and out of 
college publications. 

The November number of the "Harvard Advocate" has for its opening 
editorial a stirring article against the worship of brawn and muscle to the ex- 
clusion of all respect for body and soul. It is indeed refreshing to find among 
the huge pile of college magazines at least one that dares question the opinion 
that " body is better than soul and matter than mind." 

From a great mass of verse, some of it good, some of it otherwise, we clip the 
following as fairly representative : 

COLUMBUS IN CHAINS. 

For a mighty thought and a purpose strong, 

His age with fetters bound him; 
For his matchless faith which gave us a world, 

Four centuries have crowned him. 

The Mount Holyoke. 

THE SEA-FAIRIES. 

[Written for a Child.] 

When the moon shines bright on the lonely beach, 

And the sea is half-asleep, 
Heaving, heaving evermore; 
While the surf falls lazily along the shore, , 

And the gleaming ripples creep, 

Then the wet little fairies come out of the wave, 

And dance by the light of the moon, 
In gossamer dresses of white sea-foam, 
Brown sea-weed sash and coral comb, 

With spotted shells for shoon. 

Their little feet patter upon the sands 

As round and round they go. 
The moonlight silvers all their charms, 
Their sea-green tresses, bare brown arms, 

And pearly eyes aglow. 

And three little fairies blow on shells, 

Making low music sweet, 
Like fairy surge on a fairy shore, 
Tumbling, tumbling, with tiny roar, 

In time to the pattering feet. 



THE WELLBSLEY MAGAZINE. 215 



The king of the fairies sits apart, 

With a trident sceptre of gold. 
He sits in kingly state alone: 
A crystal pehble his splendid throne, 

Carved by the waves of old. 

But when the moon dips low in the west, 

And sands and sea grow dim, 
The fairies vanish with the light, 
Leaving the surf, through the lonely night, 
To chant its solemn hymn. 

The Bkunonian. 
NOCTURNE. 

I. 

The other night two Beings passed before me as I slept — 
I scarcely heard a single sound, so quietly they crept — 
Except the rustling of their robes around them as they stept. 

II. 
Then straightway grew I curious, and half arose in bed, 
And strained each trembling nerve to hear and ponder what they said — 
To learn who these strange Shapes might be in garments of the dead. 

III. 
The one was clad in white, and wore a white rose in her hair — 
I wondered why she wore the blossom thus, and then, and there — 
I wondered who the One could be — so marvelously fair ! 

IV. 
My answer came — a whisper such as ne'er was heard on earth — 
A hollow, heartless whisper, full of mocking, maddening mirth — 
" Once, long ago, I kissed him. I'm the Instant of his Birth 1 " 

V. 
The other, darkly robed, seemed an embodiment of woes — 
An odor as if from the tomb was clinging to her clothes, 
And fastened on her breast I saw she wore a withered rose. 

VI. 
Her voice was low and tender — scarcely heard above a breath — 
As when a lovelorn angel to her lover whispereth — 
And she said — "I soon shall kiss him — I'm the Instant of his Death!" 

VII. 
They spoke and vanished, but the dream will haunt me 'till I die — 
The question burns within me — Why the White One's mockery? — 
And why the Other's tenderness? — Ah, who can tell me why! 

Tiie Nassau Lit. 



216 • THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 



TENNYSON. 

To-night, when chill winds tear away 

From shivering hough the pallid leaf, 

I think of him who sang in grief, 
" Our little systems have their day; 

" They have their day and cease to he." 

He is not dead, hut aye shall give 

Pure, tuneful solace; he shall live, 
The beacon of a century. 

The Harvard Monthly. 

LETTERS. 

"Lovingly yours," she used to write, 

That was after our summer's fun: 

Mark what the rocks and waves had done. 
"Lovingly yours," she used to write 
When college begun. 

"Ever sincerely" — ah! a change, 

Thus she forgets the lesson she taught; 

Somebody else is paying court. 
" Ever sincerely " — what a change ! 
She scarcely ought. 

"Cordially" — this is very terse, 

Such nonchalance will never do ; 

That summer's faded from her view. 
" Cordially "— frigid — very terse. 
I wonder — who? 

"Tours," ah, well, I expected that, 

That was after his winter's fun; 

Mark what parties and hops had done, 
"Yours in haste," I expected that 
Ere college was done. 



Harvard Advocate. 



EPITAPH FOR A POET. 



The critics scorned to criticise, 
The editors to analyze, 

The poems I was wont to write; 
And friends themselves showed no surprise 

That men could be so impolite. 



THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 217 



One man there was, however, who 
Possessed a most exalted view 

Of all I ever wrote or said ; 
Of all the men I ever knew 

He only had a level head. 

He was a man intelligent, 

Who from a better land was sent; 

A poet of a high degree 
Of fancy and of sentiment, 

A perfect genius, namely, Me. 

Haevabd Advocate. 



Coffege (notes. 

The long-dreamed of post-office is at last to become a reality. It is to be in 
the hands of the college, and will probably be opened at the beginning of the new 
semester. Each student will possess a key to her own box, and be able to secure 
her own mail. 

A delightful concert was given in the chapel on January 9th by the Germania 
Orchestra, assisted by Miss Rose Stewart as soloist. 

Miss Bates and Miss Coman were prevented by illness from meeting their classes 
at the beginning of this term. 

Miss Charlotte Roberts stopped for a short visit at Wellesley on her way back 
to Yale, where she is this year studying. 

Miss Emily Fogg, formerly of '93, spent a part of the vacation at college with 
Miss Keith. 

Dr. Lyman Abbott spoke in the chapel on Thursday evening, January 5th. 

The snow continues to fall, and the sleighing and coasting are thoroughly 
enjoyed by the students. 

All who wish to register with the New England Bureau of Education, whose 
advertisement may be found in another column, may obtain the necessary blanks 
of Miss Helen G. Eager, '93. 



JJociefg (Tlofes. 

The Art Society held its regular meeting in the Art Gallery, December 10th. 
The following programme was presented : 



218 THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 

Modern English Drama: 

Paper: Characteristics of Modern English Drama . . Miss Howe 

Talks: Comparison of Modern English Drama with 

a. Greek Drama ....... Miss Irish 

b. Shakespearian Drama ..... Miss Foster 
Reading, with tableaux. Scenes from "A Blot on the 'Scutcheon." 

A regular meeting of Phi Sigma was held January 7th. The programme was 
as follows : 

Morris as " The Apostle of Brotherhood." 
I. A Review of Some Prominent Utopians . . . . Helen Foss 

II. The Evolution of the Social Ideal Edith White 

III. Debate. Resolved, that Morris' Socialist Scheme is practicable. 

Affirmative. Henrietta St. B. Brooks. 
Negative. Helen G. Eager. 
At her regular meeting, held January 14th, Zeta Alpha finished the semester's 
study of "Forecasts of the Twentieth Century." The programme was as 
follows : 

Music and Art. 
I. American Painting and Painters .... Clara L. Willis 

II. Songs of American Composers ..... Grace Grenell 

III. Comparison of Modern French and English Art . Lydia O. Pennington 

IV. Tendencies of Modern European Composers with 

piano illustrations Helen Drake 

V. The future of Music and Art .... Winifred Augsbury 

The following new members were initiated : Grace L. Addeman, '95, Kate 
W. Nelson, '95, Helen Dennis, '95, Mary E. Field, '95, Elizabeth M. Wood, '94, 
Clara M. Kruse, '94. 



Coffege $uffeftn. 

Jan. 12. Phillips Brooks speaks in the evening. 

Jan. 15. Dr. Archibald McCullough of Worcester preaches. 

Jan. 16. Reading by Geo. W. Cable. 

J;in. 22. Rev. S. R. Fuller of Maiden preaches. 

Jan. 26. Day of Prayer for colleges. 

Feb. 19. Rev. Chas. A. Dickinson preaches. 



THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 219 

(gtfumnae (ttofes. 

THE WASHINGTON WELLESLEY ASSOCIATION. 

The members of the Washington Wellesley Association and their guests from 
the college, who are in Washington for the holidays, were entertained at the home 
of Miss Ethel Glover, '90, 1505 R street, Northwest, December 29. It was the 
occasion of the Fifth Annual Meeting of the Association. The election of officers 
for the coming year was as follows: President, Miss Mabel Godfrey, '90; vice- 
president, Miss C. W. Orr, '89; secretary, Mrs. Laura Paul Dilber, '79-'So; 
treasurer, Miss Lewanna Wilkins, '91 ; chairman of business committee, Miss 
Maria Baldwin, '91. 

The social meeting began with a violin solo by Miss Mattie Saxton of Mt. 
Pleasant. This was followed by addresses of welcome to the new members by 
the president of the association, Miss Emma Teller, '89; Miss Isabella Campbell, 
'94, then gave most entertainingly the annals of the college for the year '92. Miss 
Cummings of the Wellesley faculty gave an account of the changes recently made 
in the college curriculum. 

Miss Florence Converse, so well known to the readers of the Wellesley Maga- 
zine, read one of her stones. College songs and a tea closed a most delightful 
reunion. 

Among the guests from the college were : Miss Cummings, Miss Gilchrist, 
Miss Converse, Miss Laura Northey, Miss Grace Johnson, Miss Lila Tayler, 
Miss Louise Taylor, Miss Celia Mayse, Miss Lydia Wilkins, Miss Alice Parvis, 
Miss Agnes Cook, Miss Bartlett, Miss Warren. Miss E. A. Vinton, '84, of Nor- 
folk College, Va., was also present. 

The fall meeting of the Philadelphia Wellesley Club was held November 19 at 
1 132 Gwaid St., Miss Anna Palen presiding. The short business meeting was 
preluded by music given by Miss Bird of the Walton (Wellesley) School and 
followed by an informal discussion as to the future of the club 

A Wellesley Association has been formed in Washington State. 

The Chicago Wellesley Club met November 19th at the home of Miss Anna 
Williams, Washington Boulevard, Miss Mary Howe in the chair. The election 
of officers resulted as follows: President, Miss Marion Ely; vice-president, Miss 
Alice Hinchcliffe Ray; corresponding secretary, Miss May Cook; recording 
secretary, Miss Edith Wilkinson. 

Miss Laura Jones, 'S4, is studying Hebrew and history in Chicago University 
instead of teaching as was stated in the last number of the Magazine. 



220 



THE WELLESLEY MAGAZINE. 



Miss Harriet Stone, '88, is pursuing advanced work in chemistry at the Chicago 
University. 

Miss May Cook, '83, Miss Isabella Stone and Miss Caroline Williams of '89 
and Miss Agnes Holbrook, '92, have formed a private class in German under 
Mile. Heistermeister. 

Miss Lucia LefRngwell, '89, is studying in the Art Students' League, N. Y. 

Miss Bell Sherwin, '90, is teaching history in St. Margaret's School, Water- 
bury, Conn. 

Miss Mary Stevens Ayres, '87-'9i, is living in Wellesley and pursuing a normal 
course in physical culture with Miss Annie Payson Call of Boston. 

Miss Agnes Holbrook, '92, is taking a course in Constitutional Law at Chicago 
University. 

The address of Miss Lillian Hunt is 1104 I 3 t ' 1 street, Northwest, Washington, 
D. C. 

Carriages. 

Osmee — LaRose. At Logatisport, Ind., Dec. 28, 1862, Anna V. LaRose, '84, to Walter 
A. Osraer. At home, 316 North street, after Jan. 11, 1893. Miss LaRose is the ex-superin- 
tendent of puhlic schools in Logansport. 

Births. 

To Mrs. Helen Harris Dutcher, M. D., '86-' 88, (?) December 5, 1892, a son, Frederick 
Harris Dutcher. 

Deaths. 

Jan. 5, Miss Annie Gilchrist Bell of McGregor, Iowa. Student at Wellesley '76-' 78. 




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Prayer Books, Booklets, etc. 

<m ARE NOTED FOR LOW PRIGES> 

De Wolfe, Fiske & Co., 

The Archway Bookstore, 



361 & 365 Washington Street, 



BOSTON. 



(T\r$. U7. B. <?roeker, 

Importer and Designer of 



fine * (\rumntvy, 

318 Boylston St., Boston. 

DISCOUNT TO STUDENTS. 

Wellesley Pharmacy, 

^5. U/. p^Y, proprietor. 

PURE DRUGS & MEDICINES. 

Physicians' Prescriptions a Specialty. 



Finest Roadbed on the Continent. 



B0ST0i\ k 




RAIL ROAD . 

ONLY 

First Glass Through Gar Hoate 

To the West. 



Though Trains leave Boston as follows: 

8.30 a. m. (ex. Sunday) Day Express. 
10.30 a. m. (daily) Chicago Special. 
2.00 p. m. (daily) North Shore Limited. 
3.00 p. in. (ex. Sunday) St. Louis 

Express. 
5.00 p. in. (daily) Cincinnati and St. Louis Special. 
7.15 p. m. (daily) Pacific Express. 

Springfield Line 

FOR 

Hartford, New Haven and New York. 



LEAVE BOSTON 
9.00 A. M. 

11.00 A. M. 

* 12.00 Noon 

4.00 P. M. 

11.00 P. M. 



ARRIVE NEW YORK. 

(ex. Sunday) 3.30 P. M. 



(ex. Sunday) 5. 30 P. M. 

(ex. Sunday) 5.40 P. M. 

(daily) 10.00 P. M. 

(daily) 7.41 A. M. 

*This train in composed entirely of drawing-room 
cars, and special ticket which entitles holder to seat 
in drawing-room car required ; tickets will not be 
sold beyond seating capacity of train. 

For tickets, information, time-tables, etc., 
apply to nearest ticket agent. 

A. S. HANSON, 

GENERAL PASSENGER AGENT. 




R 

I 

G 



D 



IT is difficult to fit the right adjective to this desk. 
It needs a new one, fresh-made, to rightly describe it. 

Inside it is a perfect warren of convenience. 
The sub-divisions were planned by a clever mind, 
who had a good ear for questions and answered 
them all. 

The drawer arrangement is excellent. Round 
the top runs a brass gallery for guarding books or 
ornaments. 

All this means nothing to you till you know 
the price. You will scarcely believe that this is one 
of the cheapest desks in our collection. 

BUT IT IS! 

Paine's Furniture Co., 

48 CANAL ST., BOSTON. [SK;r] 



Fine Carpets. 

The finest line of specialties in 

Axminsters, Wiltons, and 
Brussels Carpets 

ever offered by us. 
These are all our patterns, with a full line of the 

FAMOUS LONDON FURNISHER, 
WILLIAM MORRIS' 

PATTERNS IN 

Oarpets.". ana.'. \ lammersmitr) .'. I \uas. 

WE FEEL THAT OUR FALL 
STOCK WILL BEAR THE 
. CLOSEST INSPECTION. . 

JoelGoldtkuait&Go., 

163 to 169 WASHINGTON ST., 
BOSTON. 




THE P ENGL AND BUREAU OF 

Reasons why this Bureau has gained and deserves the Confidence and Patronage of so 
large a Constituency of Teachers and School Officers all over the Nation : — 

(1) Because it is the oldest Teachers' Agency in New England, having been established in 1875- 

(2) Because its Manager for the last eleven years is a professional educator, and has become familiar with 

the conditions and wants of every grade of schools, and the necessary qualifications of teachers. 

(3) Because the number of our candidates is large and embraces many of the ablest teachers, male and 

female, in the profession. 

(4) Because all applications for teachers receive prompt and careful attention. 

(5) Because our pledges for fair dealing and devotion to the interests of our patrons have been redeemed. 
No charge to School Officers. Forms and circulars sent FREE. Register now forthe Autumn vacancies 

for Winter and Spring as well, as the demand is constant. Apply to 

HIRAM ORCUTT, Manager, 

3 Somerset St., BOSTON. 



WELLESLEY LAUNDRY. 

BLOSSOM STREET. 

Rates (for J^ dozen or more pieces) 60 cents per dozen. Less than x /i dozen pieces, list prices. 
Fancy ironing (dresses, skirts, sacques, etc.) charged at the rate of 30 cents per hour. Ladies' work 
in charge of lady assistants. All work guaranteed, and, if not satisfactory, may be returned to the 
laundry. 

Work called for and delivered without charge. 

LISTS FURNISHED. 

L. F. Morse, J. T. Mellers, 



$1000 



On PRIZES FOR POEMS on ESTERBROOK'S PENS. 

\3 \M 4* 1MSIZ G«. 3 of SlOO each; 4, of »SO ; 13 of S3-1 ; :tO of SilO. 

. «™^«» Po?ms not to exceed 34 lines, averajrini? H words. Competitors to remit 
^, _ _'■ ■ at SI. OO and receive a grossof the new " Poet's" fen and a combination Rub- 

ber Penholder. Write name and address on separate sheet, send poems before Jan. 1,'J>«. Awards made by 
competent fudges soon after. Circulars. The Enterbrouk Steel Pea Co., 26 John St., N. Tf. 



Manufacturers and Dealers in 



Steam Launches, Sail Boats, Row Boats, Canoes 




First-class work done at reasonable rates. Particular attention given to Light Cedar Boats and Canoes. 

The Director of the Gymnasium and the Captains of the Boat-crews testify to the 
satisfaction which our work has given in Wellesley. 

Warerooms, 394 Atlantic Ave., 
BOSTON, MASS. 



KODAK DEVELOPING AND PRINTING. COPIES AND ENLARGEMENTS. 

Harriette Anthony, 

^PHOTOGRAPHERS 

THE HIGHEST GRADE OF WORK FOR AMATEURS. 

Studio, 154 Tremont Street, 

BOSTON. 

CAMERAS TO LET. MOUNTING OF PHOTOGRAPHS IN ALBUMS. 

5Jit^l/E, ^u/rp 9 COU/ CO., 

147 Tremont Street, Corner of West, 

Jewellers and Silversmiths. 

FINE STATIONERY. CARD ENGRAVING. 

PROGRAMS and INVITATIONS, both printed and engraved. Class Day programs a specialty. 

CLASS PINS designed and manufactured to order. 

PARASOLS and UMBRELLAS made to order, re-covered and repaired. 




onAtJOM or 863 // '46 Tremont St. 

Broadway, N. Y. f BOSTON 



pw>e, ?pe§h ar-xd ©eli©ioGi§ ©ai->die§. 

r;oice ^Selection of Kancy Baskets, Doxes and Donoonnieres constant!' 
on pand at very reasonable prices. 



Wc 



Itjecliccd fe©ll< 



©rr)<2rr) s rxyeeLiceri ^©necre, 
OF THE NEW YORK INFIRMARY 

321 EAST 15th STREET, NEW YORK. 

Session '92-'93 opens October 1st, 1892. Three years Graded Course. Instruction by Lectures, Clinics, 
Recitations and practical work, under supervision in Laboratories and Dispensary of College, and in U. S. 
Infirmary. Clinics and operations in most of the City Hospitals and Dispensaries open to Women Students. 
For Catalogues etc., address 

EMILY BLACKWELL, M. D., 

321 East lfth Street, New York. 



SHE. This is the easiest and 
most comfortable wheel I ever 
rode. 

HE. Of course. We ride 
Columbia Pneumatics, and 
they hold the market on com- 
fort. 



Catalogues free. 




^OCU/T\BI/l U/Ji££C5. 

"The Finest in the Land." 
Because 

EASIEST RIDING, 
RELIABLE, 
"UP TO DATE." 

Orders receive prompt atten- 
tion leftwith 

D. Boekett, flgt, 

WELLESLEY COLLEGE, 
WELLESLEY. 



LM7VIPS? 



Yes, lots of tli em. 

Big lamps to stand on the floor. 

Medium sized lamps to put on tables. 

Little lamps to go and sit in a corner with 

when you don't feel sociable. 

All these and many more. 



Buy one if you want to make your room 

attractive. 

Never before was there such variety of design, 

or such beauty of execution. 

Never were the shades so artistic. 

Never were the prices so low. 

Come and see. 



R. HOLLINGS & CO.. 

MANUFACTURERS AND IMPORTERS, 

523-525 Washington Street, 

Opposite R. H. White & Co.'s. 



GLOVES. 



Our Fall Importations have come, and the assortment, both as to qualities and shades, is very com- 
plete. Special attention is called to the following grades : 

" LENOX." — This is our ov/n exclusive make of Glove. !t has given thorough satisfaction to 
our best customers for several years. It is a strictly first quality Suede Glove. This season's importation 
includes all the staple shades and some new shades. The following styles are very popular : 7-Hook 
Foster Lacing at $1.6$ per pair, and 6-Button Mousquetaire at #1.75 per pair. We also carry this last 
Glove in lengths from 4 to }0 Buttons. 

DENT'S LONDON GLOVES— We make a specialty of Dent's English Gloves. They 
are specially adapted for Driving and for Street Wear. This season's importation includes a popular style 
of Castor Gloves at #1.00 per pair. 

WE AKE THE ONLY DRY GOODS HOUSE GIVING WELIESLEY STUDENTS A DISCOUNT. 



R. H. STEARNS & CO., 

Tremont Street & Temple Place, 



BOSTON. 




PHOTOGRAPHER 

Boston and Brookline, Mass. 

WELLESLEY BRANCH 
open every Monday and Tuesday. 



54 Summer Street. 

TURKISH 

SLIPPERS, 
JAPANESE 
FABRICS. 

Bric-a-Brac, Screens, &c. 




Duplicates of last year portraits and Tree-day The on , y store jn Boston de aling in Japa- 
groups can be had at the Wellesley Studio. \ nese, Chinese and India goods exclusively.